


Spun by the Moon

by sillytwinstars



Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Camp Counselor AU, Canoedling, Canon-Typical Violence/Shenanigans, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Language, Literally zero regrets for all these canon references, Too many canon references, drug mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillytwinstars/pseuds/sillytwinstars
Summary: When Maka came back to camp, she didn’t expect to butt heads with a dumb, cocky, too-often-shirtless idiot. But they keep getting thrown together: at the lake, in counselor events, and eventually, on a mission to save camp from ill-intentioned nurses. When they end up in a little canoe on a starry night, can the moon's unpredictable magic bring them closer? Camp Counselor AU!





	1. There's a Web Like a Spider's Web

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo! :3 Welcome to Spun by the Moon, my submission for Resbang 2016! I had the opportunity to work with an amazing and incredibly kind and talented artist, Aquabella888, who has created some amazing pieces to go with this story, so please enjoy the art you'll see throughout this story, and check it all out in one spot on tumblr [here!](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)
> 
> This story has been my and Bella's baby for the past six months. It has my whole heart. So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!~

[ ](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)

The sun filtered through the gaps in the pine trees, highlighting the dust streams that floated fairy-light on the breeze. Between the trees, a sea of cabins peppered the forest in black and white dots. In the distance was a stately gate, gray and stark against the trees, with familiar words moving in an arch over its crest.

Camp Crescent Moon, the sign said, and the sight of it brought a rush of warm nostalgia. Suddenly, it was back to the scenes and scents of campfires past; back to that sweet promise of the lazy, languid days of summer.

Basking in the wistful glow that only a beautifully familiar place can evoke, Maka Albarn slowly made her way to the camp gates, duffel bag in hand, sneakers scuffing the dirt path as she walked. She was taking her time, pausing to savor the sight of the massive skull-shaped pillars adorning the sides of the gates.

She gazed appreciatively at the imposing torches that jutted out beneath the skulls. It was comforting that they were always lit.

...Well, _looked_ lit, nowadays. The camp director was probably not interested in a repeat of the lawsuits and general distress associated with nearly burning down camp via aesthetic torchlight. During Maka's first summer, Black*Star had decided to climb one of the torches and sent it hurtling to the ground, igniting the tennis courts – and Kid's symmetry-fueled wrath – in one fell swoop. Real or not, it was more than likely that they were now lighting the way towards another summer of mayhem.

Maka reveled in the quiet closeness she felt for this magical place, and for the amazing dysfunctional home she had found here. It was a bit strange _,_ she thought, that a place where she only spent three months of the year could be considered a home. But a home it was, with her boundless love for the lake and the campers, despite the difficulties and the downright outrageous unpredictability – normally in the form of one blue-haired loudmouth.

As she finally passed under the sign, footsteps sounded on the drive behind her.

"Tsubaki!" she said excitedly. Their duffel bags hit the ground with a thud as her co-counselor wrapped her in a warm hug.

"Did you have a good year, Maka?" came a kind and quiet voice from the depths of Maka's shoulder.

"It was fine," Maka hedged, noncommittal. "But—"

"It's good to be back," Tsubaki said with a nod, smiling at Maka as they picked up their bags and began the trek to their cabin.

They chatted as they made their way past the dining hall and the stables, taking in the familiar surroundings as they walked. Finally, a giant and jauntily scribbled number 13 greeted them with time-worn warmth on their cabin door.

Tsubaki squinted at the peeling yellow paint on the door. "Sometimes I forget how old camp is," she said, pushing it open with a creak.

"Well, Lord Death founded it forever ago, right?" Maka said as she tossed her things onto a bed. "He wanted to make sure that the values of camping would always be protected. And it makes sense – it's so nice to get away, to be part of a tradition—"

"Speaking of traditions," Tsubaki said slyly, eyeing her friend. "Are you planning on trying for any… _leadership_ positions this summer?"

Maka's eyes narrowed. "You know we aren't supposed to talk abou—"

"Oh, Maka," Tsubaki said, ever the appeaser. "I know, but the kids aren't even here yet, and… I really think you'd be great for it."

Despite herself, Maka smiled a little.

"We'll have to see how the vote goes," she said, before her face morphed into a mask of mock fury.

"Wait a second… you're on the other team!" she yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Tsubaki.

"You've been conversing with the enemy!" Tsubaki said proudly, giggling to herself.

Maka kneeled and tossed a pillow at Tsubaki's face, though it lacked the force to do any real damage since she was laughing so hard. Tsubaki ducked, picked it up, and just as she was about to swing it back, a familiar voice rang out over the loudspeakers.

" _Fools!_ " it declared, the speakers relaying the voice's crackly demands. "All counselors must report to the counselor house at once - or you'll miss afternoon tea and other refreshments! Don't be late!"

The two of them grinned at each other excitedly and ran outside, leaving their duffels abandoned on the cabin floor. The cabin door clanged shut on its springs with an impatient bang and as they left, the first rays of summer sun beat down on their backs.

Although the campers' cabins were scattered haphazardly throughout the forest, the staff building loomed, tall and stately, near the top of a hill on the eastern side of the grounds. Just beyond it, they could see the doctor's cabin; the counselors had always called it "The Stitch," no doubt named for camp's infamous longtime doctor who had a disturbing knack for poking his needles into places they didn't belong.

The two of them climbed the hill, slightly out of breath by the time that they got to the cabin door. The door was open, and the sounds of a hundred counselors milling about inside the hall met their ears as the two of them crossed the threshold, leaning against the wall to catch their breath for a moment before entering the fray.

Eventually the two of them headed over to a water table in the corner. As was the case every year, despite the loudspeaker's lofty promises of tea, there was none to be found.

In the crowd, she caught sight of a black and white mop of hair between two blonde ones.

"Maka, Tsubaki," came a courteous voice from the most high-strung of the mops, and they waved as Kid came into view.

"Hi, you three," Tsubaki said happily, grabbing a cup of water from the table and sipping at it.

"Good year?" Liz asked, tipping her signature cowboy hat to the two of them.

"Fine, fine," Maka said. "How are our favorite sisters? … And our favorite director's son?" she added with a nod at Kid.

"Pumped for summer!" Patty yelled, pumping her fist into the air. "All three of us get to work in the Art Center this year, don't we sis?"

Maka and Tsubaki exchanged a loaded look, wondering how exactly it was that Kid had managed to finagle his way into working yet another year as an art counselor, considering it took him four hours to wind up one ball of yarn.

This was an especially mysterious placement after last summer, when they'd had to shut down the entire center for the day after Kid had insisted on re-sculpting all of the campers' pottery to his own symmetrical specifications. She was pretty sure that they'd set the record for tear-stained faces on that day - not including _Kid himself,_ who'd produced an impressive amount of waterworks on his own.

Clearly itching to change the subject, Liz grabbed her own water and pointed at the two of them.

"Where are you two working this summer?" she asked, tossing back another cup.

"I'm at the waterfront," Maka said, pulling a lifejacket out of her backpack. Kid raised an eyebrow at the lifejacket in her hand and she blanched; she knew she didn't have to carry the thing everywhere, but who knew when she might need it? It was her job to set the example when it came to safety, obviously.

"Back at the stables!" said Tsubaki. "But they've also got me wandering around doing random tasks on one of the days," she said, her smile faltering a little.

"Hey, that's an honor!" Maka said, and Patty nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "They only pick someone who's really dependable for that job. They know they can ask you to do anything and they know you'll get it done."

"I guess you're right," Tsubaki sighed, not looking convinced.

"Yeah, can you imagine if they gave that to Black*Star?" Liz said with a laugh.

Tsubaki smiled at that, and did actually seem to be comforted. Leave it to Black*Star to somehow bolster everyone's spirits by being completely and utterly irresponsible.

"Where is he, anyway?" Maka asked, and the group gave a collective shrug. She cast her eyes over the rest of the room, searching out the other returning counselors. There were so many faces she knew; she spotted Harvar, then Jackie, then Ox (she noted with a scowl), and it amazed her, how many of them came back year after year.

There were new faces, too. She noted one shy-looking individual in particular with a cotton-candy pink head of hair, crouched in a corner adjacent to theirs, holding a backpack with two big Xs stretching over the back pockets. She made a note to talk with them later – they looked like they could use a friend, and she was well-known for lending a hand or two in that department.

Either way, it was immediately clear that Black*Star wasn't there yet; even over the din of the room, she knew she'd be able to pick out his distinctive ear-throbbing voice anywhere. Just as she'd started to question his absence, all of the lights in the room shut off with a snap, and her face erupted into a smile of its own accord.

At the front of the room, raised up on a dais, was a tiny stage with a slowly brightening spotlight. Everyone dropped down, taking a seat on the floor.

"Hey, Hiya, Hello!" said an exuberant voice, disembodied for the moment but distinctive nonetheless. She took a moment to close her eyes, taking in the excitement and the tension of the moment, and when she opened them again, the masked man himself stood before them in all of his mysterious glory.

"Welcome to our beloved Camp Crescent Moon," he said, ghoulish face bobbing up and down as he nodded with excitement. "Another summer of fun, new experiences and change awaits. But like every summer, I want to remind you all of why you're here. Why children come back, summer after summer, and what you, as the elite group of counselors that you are, are expected to exemplify. Every new summer, and each summer that has preceded it, begins with the same story. Are you ready to hear it?"

There came a flutter of nods from all of the counselors; even those that had been there the longest were restless, excited to hear the tale retold another time.

"Many years ago, the world was full of people who talked, and played, and spent time with their fellow human beings," their masked narrator began, stepping to the side of the stage to make room for the tale that was about to take form. "For better or for worse, people laughed with one another, fought with one another, _coexisted_ with one another."

There was a smattering of laughter as two camp nurses, one with white bands wrapped around her head like a turban, and the other with tattoos snaking up her arms, hopped on stage and proceeded to act out the director's words. It seemed they were taking care to over-dramatize the fighting, as the first nurse smashed into the ground after a particularly impressive kick from the second.

"People knew how to communicate with one another, how to engage," he continued. "But over time, things started to shift. It started with the radio, then television, and as the hypnotic pull of technology began to take root, we started to forget about the natural beauty surrounding us."

Suddenly, a giant white sheet burst out of the ceiling, cascading to the ground and creating a giant screen that stretched to the floor. As a light appeared behind it, it illuminated two figures hunched over the silhouette of a television set, as sounds of children playing in the distance echoed behind them.

"Technology began to cause rifts within humanity, and a change in our mindsets – like the whispers of _madness_ – began to take shape as selfishness and narcissism descended upon our minds."

At this, the loudspeakers sputtered on. White noise filled the room with an unsettling rustling as a hunched figure appeared behind the sheet. It hobbled its way into the center of the frame, dragging an office chair in its wake.

"Seeking knowledge is a beautiful thing, but sometimes it can… do things to you."

The figure looked up for the first time, spine curling up slowly until it stood unsettlingly straight. Its ominous form regarded the audience curiously, as if it had just realized they were there. After a moment, it reached up to slowly twist something on its head, and the clicking elicited a cringe from the entire group.

"People were losing sight of the most meaningful part of the human experience: true bonds of brotherhood among their fellow mortals."

Another figure materialized behind the sheet. This one was taller and bulkier than the first, and it dragged its feet like a zombie as it approached its eerily silent comrade. But then suddenly they both stopped, and pulled out what looked like cell phones.

They each stared down at their phone for several seconds, and then their necks snapped upward. All of the lights were cut, plunging the room into darkness. Through the sheet, their eyes burned a deep, demonic red.

" _Holy-_ ," Liz whispered loudly, her hand shaking as it gripped Patty's arm. _That_ was a new addition to the skit.

"But what if," the narrator continued, voice slicing through the darkness. "There were an escape from the chaos?"

The light behind the sheet shuttered back on, and the screw-headed figure suddenly dropped the phone with a clatter, hunching over and letting out a guttural scream. Liz literally jumped out of her seat at this, but Patty, being well-practiced in the art of keeping Liz on this plane of existence, threw her arms around her to restrain her.

The second figure turned, and began to approach the screaming man as the narrator said:

"What if there were a place where we could take steps into the past, into a world where goodness, and empathy and simple _human interaction_ protected our souls from this corruption?"

When the two figures reached each other, one placed a hand on its distressed comrade's shoulder and bowed its head. As the somber stillness of the scene hung in the air, the light behind the sheet faded to black. The narrator's face reappeared against the darkness, black eye sockets boring into the crowd.

"Perhaps it's impossible to escape the madness completely, but for a time, this is what we hope to achieve."

The director took center stage again, walking stoically, looking deadly serious – a pretty incredible feat for a faceless man.

"I suppose this isn't your typical summer camp," he said, holding his hands out as if he wanted to be perfectly clear in this admission. "This is a camp that exists to protect and preserve peace – peace between all of you, and peace within yourselves. That's how we keep the madness at bay."

The crowd rustled with uncertainty, unsure of whether to applaud or to let the final words of the story echo in their heads. All Maka could clearly hear was the tap-tap of the director's footsteps as he paced to the side of the stage.

Finally, the spell was broken when Kid started a loud slow clap, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as everyone else joined in.

"I still think it's a melodramatic way to say 'turn off your phones', but whatever works," he said bemusedly through the applause. Liz eyed him with strained amusement, clearly wondering how Kid, of all people, was complaining about melodrama.

Maka was about to step in to fend off _that_ budding argument when the director's voice rang out onstage again, causing the group to fall silent once more.

"Thank you for your attention, and I hope that you'll find this summer as enjoyable as all of the summers before it!" he said enthusiastically. "Now, if you'll give us a few more minutes of your time, I'd like to introduce our adminis–"

Before he had time to finish, the door at the back of the room burst open, accompanied by a head of blue hair so unmistakable that every single returning counselor let out a little groan.

"Hey, everybody! Are we late to the party?!" Black*Star exclaimed with such assumed superiority that even the director's shoulders seem to sag in exasperation. As he stepped further into the room, she rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten about that damn shirt.

Forever dissatisfied with the polo shirts they had to wear for counselor duties, he'd commissioned himself a muscle shirt instead, successfully freeing his biceps from the confines of traditional camp attire. Thank goodness he never went on trips. She couldn't take him anywhere.

As the entire room continued to stare at him in silence, he let out a booming laugh.

"This is perfect, it means that you all get a proper introduction! I'm the great Black*Star, the biggest–"

He continued his monologue but, as insurmountable of a task as it was, Maka was managing to tune him out. It struck her as a bit odd that he'd said "we", as he seemed to be the only one that had entered the room. Unless he'd taken to referring to himself in the plural (which wouldn't be completely unexpected, as he definitely had enough personality for two, maybe even three people), she wondered who else had come with him. There wasn't anyone else missing from the previous summer's counselors, as far as she could see. But who else would he have toted along?

As she looked more closely, however, there did seem to be someone else there with Black*Star. In the frame of the door, despite the dimness of the lighting in the room, she could barely make out a rather… well, _slouchy_ outline, leaning against the wall outside.

She was about to whisper something to Tsubaki as the end of Black*Star's Salient Speech of Self-Importance was coming to an end ("and lastly, if you know of anyone that likes getting their _ass beat to a pulp_ in basketball, feel free to send them my way, HA!"), but then the shadow in the door stirred, and brought its slouch out of the darkness of the hallway and into the world of the living.

"OH RIGHT," Black*Star said, waving his arm in the newcomer's general direction. "This is Soul, the most badass and chill of all of my followers, so say hi to him when you have a chance."

Soul, despite this rumored status of "most badass and chill," definitely didn't look like either of those things at the moment; in fact, he looked like he'd rather fade into the drywall behind him and disappear than be referred to as such. Maka's mouth quirked sympathetically.

Finally, what felt like hours too late, the director cleared his throat and Black*Star seemed to regain some semblance of control over himself. He caught Kid's eye and gave an exuberant wave, dragging his seemingly less than enthusiastic friend along to sit beside them.

As they settled in, the director began again. "As I was saying… I wanted to introduce the administrative staff this year. Once upon a time, they called me Lord Death, but there's really no need to be as regal as all of that! You can simply call me Director, if you please!"

" _Lord Death?_ " someone behind them whispered loudly. "Did he go through like, a goth phase or something?"

Kid pinched the bridge of his nose. "Everyone's a comedian," he said with a sigh. Maka looked over at him, trying not to laugh. They couldn't help their curiosity, she knew, but every summer the new counselors' theories about Kid's dad's nickname spawned a special kind of disdain in him.

"Next, I'd like to introduce our assistant director, S-"

Maka sighed as the lanky, red-haired face of her father jutted out from behind the curtains, cutting off the director's words with a hiss.

"Don't call me Spirit! They should only know me as _Assistant Director_! If all of these disgraceful males know my real name, they won't respect me! And then I'll never be able to protect my little girl."

"Like anybody _respects_ you anyway," Maka muttered.

Spirit stepped out from behind the curtain with a flourish, whipping it behind him like a cape.

"Where's Maka?" he demanded, putting his hand up to his eyes and gazing into the crowd. "Where's my darling daughter?"

Maka sat very still, trying to ignore all of the heads that were turning in her direction.

"There she is!" he exclaimed, so overcome with emotion that he physically jumped into the air. "Daddy loves you, Maka! And if any of you pigs try to lay a hand on her-"

"The assistant director, everybody!" Death exclaimed, cutting Spirit off, much to Maka's relief. "You know, I think that's enough for now. Let me give you a few more announcements, and then let's go ahead and grab lunch!"

As they listened to the instructions, Maka's eye kept sliding over to her left, where Black*Star and this new guy were sitting. She was always looking for an opportunity to talk to the new counselors, and anyone that hung around with Black*Star could certainly be a friend of hers, right?

When the announcements finally ended, she took a deep breath and fell into step next to the two of them.

"Hey Maka," Black*Star said, nodding at her. "Didn't you love our entrance? We were the center of attention, weren't we?"

"You sure were, Black*Star," she said, rolling her eyes, but she was in too good of a mood to really be bothered by his exuberance. As they passed through the door, she leaned a little in front and waved at Soul, who was walking in silence beside Black*Star.

"Hey there, I just wanted to introduce myself," she said. "I'm Maka."

"Uh… yeah, I know," he said, looking at the ground, and she stilled for a moment, wondering how he knew this, before his face pulled into a smirk. "Your old man gave you a pretty good introduction."

Maka flushed a little, the snark taking her by surprise. Black*Star, on the other hand, let out a hearty laugh.

"Yeah, Spirit's a pretty funny guy," he said. "He's a shit director though."

"He's basically a glorified secretary," Liz said from behind them.

"…And make sure you stay away from his little girl," Black*Star added. He winked and gave Maka a conspiratorial thumbs-up, as if she were somehow benefitting from her father's quest to keep her in a constant state of nun-hood.

Soul looked up at her the first time – really looked at her. When he met her gaze, she was caught off guard by deep, strange red eyes, and she could sense herself mentally squirming under his scrutiny. Never one to be intimidated, she stared back at him with double the vigor.

"... I'll manage somehow," he finally said expressionlessly, looking back at the ground.

 _Well!_ What the hell was his problem? she thought, still staring at him. Black*Star glanced at her and shrugged.

"Well," she continued, deciding she didn't need to decipher that comment until later. "If you ever need anyone to show you around, or need help with one of your campers or something, just let me know. I know this place like the back of my hand."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly, but she could sense the insincerity that leaked from his words.

When they entered, Black*Star immediately spotted some of his basketball counselor buddies from the previous year and jetted off to sit with them. Maka had assumed that Soul would go with him, but he just stood there, so she was left to fend for herself with her inexplicably surly companion.

"So…" she said, as they went to a table and grabbed chairs, sliding them away from the table. "This is the cafeteria. The food's okay, but-"

"Look, I appreciate the whole 'lost puppy' routine you've got going on here," he said, cutting her off and stifling what looked like a very on-purpose yawn. "But I was a camper here for six years. I don't need your help."

He leaned back onto his chair, putting on a mask of lazy confidence, and finally, everything about the way he was acting made sense.

A former camper. She should have known.

The thing of it was, the kids that came here were pretty amazing – at least for the most part. But Crescent Moon wasn't the cheapest camp on this side of Death City, and over the years, the counselors had taken the term 'former camper' to be synonymous with 'rich.' Often 'spoiled' and 'entitled' worked their way in, for the more serious cases.

It wasn't fair to the kids, that was true… but occasionally there was a bad egg that brought every single stereotype back to life, and right now something smelled rotten.

She scowled at him, annoyed by the haughtiness he was displaying, and she didn't miss that he was surveying her with similar distaste.

"Just because you went to camp here doesn't mean you own this place," she said to him stiffly.

He almost looked a little hurt, for a second, but then he scowled, leaning back towards her and putting his hands on the table.

"Listen, smarty pants, I know secrets about this place you couldn't even dream of," he retorted, voice low and defensive.

She was taken aback by this, but soon her mouth curled into a savage grin, confident in her comeback.

"But you don't know the secrets that counselors know," she said, eyes glinting.

Before he could sputter out a response, someone who greatly resembled a certain bulky sheet silhouette from earlier came sauntering up to them, clutching a lifeguard's rescue tube in his hand.

"All right, I see our two waterfront counselors have already found each other!"

She glanced up to see Sid, the Athletic Director, gazing down at them.

"Sid!" she said, jumping up out of her seat to greet him. Sid nodded at her, and then at Soul.

"It's been a few years since I've seen you," Sid said, a tiny trace of amusement in his voice. "I remember when you-"

"Ah, c'mon Sid, no stories from the Good Ole Days, okay?" Soul said, scratching his head in embarrassment. Maka smiled, despite her annoyance. Maybe she could get a story or two out of Sid later.

"Well, anyway, I'm glad we'll all get to spend so much time together," Sid said.

Maka stopped as the weight of Sid's words sank in. _Oh no._

They realized it at the same time, Maka's eyes flitting to Soul's just as he had started to glance at her. Startled by the contact, the two of them looked quickly apart as Maka let out a huff and crossed her arms. Sid looked between the two of them curiously.

"Evidently, the two of you did not know this," he said, his expression morphing from amused to much more stern. "And neither of you seem too happy about it."

She couldn't think of anything to say to that, and apparently neither could Soul, so they both just stared at the ground in silence.

"You know, back when I was only running the basketball program, I would have told you to just keep to yourselves and help the kids on your own," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "That's the kind of man I was."

Maka let out a relieved sigh, happy that maybe she wouldn't be dealing with Soul as much as she'd thought.

"…But now, I'm the athletic director," Sid continued. "So _too bad_. Work out whatever it is you have going on, because this summer, you guys will be working as a team. No excuses."

Then he stalked away, leaving Soul and Maka to deal with the proverbial anvil he'd just dumped on their heads.

* * *

She wished she could say that their relationship improved throughout the day, but later in the afternoon, at the lake, their attitudes toward each other took another nosedive.

"Hey Tiny Tits, wanna pass me that rope?" Soul said, looking down at the inside of the boat and holding his hand out.

She'd been getting ready to pass it to him anyway, but suddenly her hand stilled, stopping before she could hand it to him.

"What the _hell_ did you just call me?" she asked, crossing her arms unconsciously over her chest.

Soul stopped and looked up at her, instantly guilty. "Uhhhh–"

She glared at him for a moment and then, with a whip of her hand, the rope came crashing down onto his head with a whack. He let out a girlish scream that would've made Liz very, very proud. Maka smiled innocently, surveying the damage with pride as she twirled a pigtail around her finger.

"Guh," he said, rubbing his head. "Okay, I get it. No more nicknames."

"Thank you," she said sweetly, reaching down and coiling up the next rope. Perhaps the boy could be trained after all.

By the end of the day, she was exhausted. She trudged back to her cabin, eyelids drooping as she pushed the door of the cabin open. Tsubaki sat at the foot of her bed as Maka came in.

"You're back late," she said, her forehead creasing in concern. "Everything go okay at the lake?"

"Other than being stuck with the world's biggest _moron_ , it was fine," Maka said, throwing herself onto her bed. She immediately regretted it: the mattresses weren't thick, and she could feel her knees knocking against the hard wood of the bed frame.

"Who…?" Tsubaki began, grabbing her pillow and scooting back to the front of the bed.

"Black*Star's stupid friend," she said. " _Soul_."

She tried and failed not to scowl as she said his name. Even his name was stupid. She didn't understand why he was such an ass. She recounted the day's events to Tsubaki, who was shaking her head by the end of it.

"Sounds to me like you shouldn't worry about him," she said. "He's an idiot for not being nice to you."

"...Yeah," Maka said glumly.

Having no further response to Tsubaki's words, Maka flipped onto her back and looked at the ceiling in silence. She wouldn't let him bother her now. Night was falling. It was her favorite time of the day, and she smiled slightly as the first sounds of the evening began to creep towards the cabin.

There were crickets, certainly. Fireflies too – she smiled as tiny yellow orbs began to make their phosphorescent debut along her windowsill. She'd always thought it strange that you couldn't hear fireflies. Maka imagined that if they did make a sound, they'd be something like the sound of a wind chime. Or maybe, she silently amended, the sounds a wind chime would make if it could whisper.

Tsubaki got up quietly and moved over to Maka's bed, and they sat and listened to the forest together. The moon, which was nearly full, leered down upon them them through the sea of tiny crescent-shaped cracks in the roof for which camp had been named.

It had always seemed like magic to her. No matter what the moon was doing outside, the moon was always a crescent inside the cabin. Unchanging, dependable, and beautiful. Just the way she liked things.

"It's so quiet without the campers here," Maka said, clutching her pillow tightly. Tsubaki nodded.

"Only one more week," Tsubaki whispered back.

If she could make it through the next seven days alive, she'd get to see them. Hopefully this unexpected new _partnership_ at the lake wouldn't be the end of her just yet.


	2. Made of Silk, Light and Shadows

Maka awakened to tiny crescent sunbeams kissing the floor of the cabin.

She sat up in bed, the cool morning air of early summer bringing instant color to her cheeks. The sounds of the birds, already out for their morning errands, spilled in through the thin cabin windows.

It only took an instant for her jump out of bed and fling the door open, breathing in that dewy, earthy patchwork of scents that disappeared so quickly once the sun fully rose.

Across the forest floor, the sunlight was nudging away the swirling fog that must have appeared just before dawn. She was torn between running out to explore the paths that sauntered between the cabins or catching an extra hour of rest. But really, she knew her decision was already made.

As she took a quiet morning walk through the trees, the remaining fog danced hypnotically in the sun's rays. It moved about in a tango, a constant push and pull that enveloped her until she finally found her way back to the cabin.

… It wasn't the only push and pull she'd be enduring today.

" _Ouch_!" she yelped, as the sailboat _someone_ was supposed to be helping her carry dropped directly onto her toes.

"Soooorry," the sailboat-dropper in question drawled at her.

She scowled at him as she clutched her foot. He was one more half-assed apology away from being drop-kicked into the lake.

Here was the thing. She was Maka Albarn; welcomer of the meek, bringer of swift justice upon anyone who deigned to upset the goodness in her world. She had spent all twenty-one years of her life trying to bring people together. Teamwork was one of her strong suits - one of her _strongest_ suits, actually.

Or so she'd thought, until now.

"Would you mind not getting distracted for five minutes?" she said, hands on her hips as she glared at him. "Maybe then we could actually get out of here in time for dinner."

"Awww, you don't like spending extra time with me?" Soul said, tossing on a scandalized expression before he turned his back to her to pick up the boat again.

"Shockingly, no," she said, heaving the sailboat back up and shuffling forward until they got to the water's edge. "Somehow I don't find your company super desirable."

"That's a shame," he said, sounding wounded. " _My_ favorite part of my day is spent here, where my favorite co-worker bosses me around, insults how I look -"

"I just asked when the last time you got a haircut was," she muttered. She glanced at the back of his head. His white, uncontrollable field of hair waved back at her like a sentient creature.

" _And_ tries to force me to wear that stupid vest thing even when we aren't in the water," his complaining continued behind his stupid albino anemone.

"You mean your _life jacket_?" she said. "We have to set an example, Soul, remember?"

"Yeah, okay," he said. "But wearing it on land, next to two-foot-deep water, when the kids aren't even _here_ yet is overkill. You'd probably make me wear my helmet when I'm not on my motorcycle, too."

"You have a motorcycle?" she said, curiosity getting the better of her as she peeked around the boat at him.

"Yup," he said. "You should come for a ride sometime, if you want."

But the way he turned around to smile at her was too friendly, and she narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious.

"Okay…" she said tentatively, reluctant to say more as their feet shuffled along the sand, nearing the water's edge.

"... There's only one helmet, though," he finally said, eyes flashing. "I'll let you decide which one of us gets to wear it."

Throttling people in their sleep was not what she should be thinking about on a hot summer's day. It made her cranky. _He_ made her cranky.

The only thing that pacified her was that he'd ended up waist-deep in the water while distracted by his goading. He grunted at his wet shorts, tugging them off of his thighs with a grimace. She chuckled, and he scowled at her, marching back through the water and stalking to the lake house to grab a towel.

"I don't know if you've heard, but this is a lake," she called after him. "You're supposed to get wet."

"And you're supposed to not be _bossy as hell_ , but how's that working out for you?" he hollered back from inside the house.

Their teamwork skills did not improve very much that day.

Somehow, though, the rest of training week at the lake passed without overwhelming catastrophe. The sailboats, kayaks and canoes all got into the water with minimal injuries - this was mostly due to Maka's reflexes improving, since Soul's rate of dropping heavy objects near her toes decreased very little throughout the week. Even the speedboat was unloaded without incident – though it certainly helped that Sid had been present for that particular endeavor.

Luckily, when she was away from the lake, she was doing a better job of befriending the new counselors. When she entered the dining hall in the middle of training week, she spotted someone she'd been meaning to meet, and wasted no time in extending a Maka-caliber welcome.

"Hey!" Maka said, running over to a pink-haired figure to the left of the hall, eager to finally introduce herself. The figure turned, looking shocked at being singled out. She considered this for a moment before responding – a bit more carefully, this time.

"My name's Maka," she said, smiling up at the newcomer. It seemed that her introduction startled them, and they turned to look at her with the same worried expression on their face, only more pronounced now.

A moment of silence stretched between them, but she kept smiling and was finally rewarded with a tentative response. "I'm... Crona."

"It's nice to meet you!" she said, and she meant it. "I saw you at the orientation but I didn't get a chance to say hi. How are you liking camp so far?"

Crona seemed unsure of how to answer this question, teetering on their feet a little and wavering back and forth. "It's…. okay…" they said eventually, looking around the lunch room nervously. _Slow and steady,_ she thought. _Let them figure out how to deal with you._

"Would you… like to sit with me?" she said. Crona jumped at this, glancing around the cafeteria again, but they seemed to decide that she was likely the most harmless person out there. They sat down at the nearest long table and dug into their hamburgers.

"So, you're here with nurse Medusa, right?" she said, pausing between bites.

"Yeah," Crona said, discomfort intensifying. "She's my, uh… my… mom."

"Having parents at camp can be rough," she agreed. "But hey, at least we have that in common!" Crona actually almost smiled at this as they stirred baked beans around with their fork.

"What's your activity this summer?" she asked.

"Creative Writing," Crona said, perking up a little more.

"Oh, I heard that was one of the new activities this summer!" Maka said. "What do you like to write?"

"….Poetry, mostly," they replied. "Most people don't really like it, though."

"Why's that?!" Maka said indignantly.

"It's… really sad," Crona said.

"Well, I'll read it sometime!" she said, annoyed that anyone would be so unsupportive. "I'm sure I'll love it."

"Okay," said Crona, looking hopeful and doubtful in equal parts, but they were definitely starting to warm up.

"I'll introduce you to Kid – and Liz and Patty," she said, tone businesslike. "They'll be right next to you in the art room, and you can help each other out!"

Crona nodded seriously. "That would be…. really nice," they said, finally cracking a small smile.

With the promise of the art center crew being in close proximity, Maka was determined to make Crona's summer just as magical as all of hers had been.

"I'm gonna get dessert, do you want any?" Maka said, scooting back her chair to head back up to the buffet.

"I think I'm actually going to go get my supplies organized for writing," Crona replied, pushing back a chair and standing as well. "But… thanks, Maka."

"Anytime!" she said with a smile, waving enthusiastically as Crona headed out of the dining hall.

As she grabbed a little cupcake with pumpkins on it, she spun around to face the table she had just left and was met with the sight of two new trays and faces seated across from her.

"Why hello there, Maka," Black*Star declared as she stalked back to the table. "Hope you don't mind us takin' a seat."

"Well, you've already sat down," she grumbled, sitting down primly and taking a bite out of her cupcake. It seemed they were waiting for her to say something else, but when she didn't reply, they both grinned.

"So, we saw you talkin' to ole Pinky over there," Black*Star said.

" _Crona_ , you mean?" Maka said irritably.

"Yeah yeah," Black*Star said, dismissive. She felt her annoyance mounting. "I'm glad someone finally talked to them. What's their activity, anyway?"

"It's creative writing," she said stiffly.

"Creative writing?!" He burst out laughing, smacking the table with his hand so that all of their forks started clattering. Soul, on the other hand, was silent, looking around the room. She assumed he was letting Black*Star have his chance to be obnoxious, seeing as Soul had already filled his quota for the day.

"What do we even have Creative Writing for, anyway?" Black*Star demanded. She stared at him incredulously.

"Probably because the kids asked for it," she said. "You know that's how that works, right?"

"That's why there aren't any music activities anymore," Soul threw in. It was the first thing he had said since they had sat down, though to his cool-guy credit, he still looked thoroughly disinterested by the conversation.

"Do you play music?" Maka said, trying to sound a lot less interested than she actually was. For some reason, it wouldn't surprise her if he did play. Something about the whole 'moody musician' type seemed to fit right in with his personality.

"I have been known to play an instrument every once in awhile," he said lightly, but Black*Star called him on his bluff almost immediately.

"Dude, you were such a music _nerd_ at camp back in the day," he said, and Soul's normally surly expression turned downright grumpy. Black*Star leaned in toward Maka conspiratorially, putting the back of his hand to his mouth and saying "comes with the family territory" in a stage whisper.

"Alriiiight, enough camp throwback stories," Soul said, slinging his arm around Black*Star's shoulders and pulling him into a noogie. Maka rolled her eyes as the two of them scuffled for a moment, the forks on the table approaching a state of perpetual movement.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'm off to go do…" She stared at them as they continued to grapple with each other. "… Anything else," she concluded, pushing in her chair. The two of them finally looked up from their fight as she started to walk away.

"Hey, Maka, wait up!" Black*Star yelled behind her. He must have released his chokehold on Soul, because she could hear his trademark footfalls thundering behind her. "We're gonna go play a game of basketball after this, wanna come with?"

"Absolutely _not_ ," she said, turning around to face him with daggers in her eyes. "I'm never playing that stupid game again. You remember what happened last summer."

Black*Star started to open his mouth, then closed it again. They'd made an agreement that last year's counselor basketball game was not to be discussed under any circumstances – especially not with Maka.

"What happened with–?" Soul started to ask.

"Fine, fine, we'll throw a Frisbee around or something," Black*Star said to Maka, waving his hand around and shooting a warning glance at Soul. "We're just _bored_."

Satisfied with their attempts to placate her, she nodded silently in agreement.

"Alriiiight!" he said, thumbs in the air. "I just gotta use the uh, facilities…" he said, pointing his thumb cheekily in the direction of the dining hall bathrooms.

"Things I did not need to know," she said, waving him away. "Meet you outside."

As she exited the dining hall, Soul followed her down the stairs and the two of them sat together in silence, listening to the wind blow through the trees. After a few seconds, Soul turned to her, messing with his jacket a little, looking for his words.

"So, uh… that was kinda cool," he finally said. "What you did with Crona."

Maka looked over at him, confused about what exactly he meant. Realizing that she didn't get it, he heaved a sigh, preparing himself for the inconvenience of having to say something nice twice.

"That was cool," he said again. "Talking to Crona and stuff. Nobody else had said anything, and you… went over. That was... cool of you."

She smiled thinly. "I thought you weren't a fan of the 'lost puppy routine,'" she said.

Soul chuckled at this and leaned back against the stairs, returning to his eternal state of slouch.

"You don't take compliments very well, huh?" he said, though he seemed to find this more amusing than anything.

"Right, because your other compliments have been so _complimentary_ ," she replied, and they both fell silent at that - although if they'd happened to glance at each other at that moment, they would have seen that they were both sporting tiny smiles.

When Black*Star emerged from his "business meeting," as he so horrifyingly called it upon his exit, the three of them headed down the hill toward the sports fields, collecting other counselors to join them as they went.

The crowd got big enough that they managed to get a full-on game going, and they tossed a frisbee around until they all grew tired. For the rest of the afternoon, they all laid on the field, staring at the clouds and giving them names.

The rest of training week passed without event, minus a couple of setbacks in the art room involving the crayons that really couldn't be helped. Nobody could disagree that reorganizing the crayons by color, instead of in their usual numbered boxes, was a much more symmetrical way to go about things.

In the meantime, they learned lifeguarding. They learned CPR. They learned how to treat everything from skinned knees to administering an Epipen. They learned how to deal with conflict in the cabin and how to tackle homesickness. Every second of every day was spent cramming Counselor Knowledge™ into their brains.

Outside of official training, her friends were a fountain of even more practical information. Liz and Patty taught everyone how to intercept love notes between the campers. Black*Star was an expert on the ideal moments to head up to the buffet for minimal wait times. Kid, on top of knowing every single logistical piece of information about camp, also showed them how to make several lovely friendship bracelet patterns.

By the end of the week, her head was so full of tips and tricks that she hoped she'd be able to remember her campers' names, on top of everything else. At least her arms were full of bracelets to give away.

On the last day of training, in Maka's opinion, the staff was about as prepared as they could be for the arrival of their charges… with one obvious exception. She glanced over at a dozing Soul on the dock, waves gently rocking against the boats. She'd let him snooze, for now. He'd soon learn how different it was to be a counselor.

As she and Tsubaki laid in the cabin that night, the branches of the trees drifted about, ushering in the final evening of training purgatory. Since dinner, she'd been able to sense the tension in the air. Every year brought a new group of kids, and it was impossible to know exactly what the cabin would be like. At least she had Tsubaki to help her weather the storms.

The counselors awoke early, under the watchful eyes of the half moon. The thick fog that danced beneath their feet was a fitting component to the ghostly setting that had been set for them this morning, as flickering torchlight beckoned the new campers to the gates.

They formed a line, awaiting their charges in silence. As the first campers walked up to the gates, the first slivers of lightening sky began to peek their way through the trees.

Throughout the morning they filtered in, and as each new camper came up, Maka and Tsubaki took turns leading them to the cabin. The eight members of cabin 13 were in the middle of the pack age-wise, all around 11-12 years of age, and Maka was happy to see that they were becoming fast friends.

As usual, the inaugural cabin-decorating session extended far into the afternoon, as the previously bare walls and rafters of their cabin received the typical pre-teen VIP treatment. Posters of One Direction and Zac Efron's face were dispersed amongst the general camp paraphernalia of goofy skulls and grinning crescents.

It was a bit jarring, the contrast between death, destruction, and boy bands, and she was sure that there could be no better cabin dynamic. By the end of the afternoon, once they'd all settled in, the nail painting party a couple of the girls had instigated was still going strong. Maka admired the little ghosts that two of the new girls, Tsugumi and Anya, had painted on her toes.

Just as the girls had finished up Tsubaki's toe-over, the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Welcome, campers!" it boomed. "Now that you're all here, I'm supposed to inform you that dinner will be served in 10 minutes!" There was a short pause, followed by: "Okay, I told them, now I get to tell the story, right?" A strangled sigh of assent came through the speakers. "Good, now see here, my legend began in the 12th century–"

The group let out a collective groan, except for the new girls, who piped up immediately, asking what was happening, and why was the loudspeaker still talking so pompously?

"You'll get used to it," one of the other girls sighed, falling back onto her bed in exasperation.

"Well c'mon girls, let's go to dinner," Tsubaki said as she put on her flip-flops, starting to usher them out. "It should stop… eventually."

It was still a little drizzly and grey outside, and Maka gazed at the sea of hoods that made their way to the dining hall, letting the elation that _everyone was finally here_ carry her forward. As they passed under another speaker ("and finally, after my third pot of tea, I make my way into town so that I may go hat shopping–"), the rain started coming down harder, and hordes of hoods raced forward in search of the dry shelter of the dining hall.

With the campers' arrival, the normally ho-hum décor of the cafeteria had been utterly transformed. Thick black and purple streamers hung down from the rafters like curtains, blocking the wood ceiling almost entirely and bathing the entire room in a soft, muted darkness - except for the golden silhouette of a smiling crescent moon, which hung over the crackling (faux) fireplace, greeting them with its yellowy-gold visage.

The girls took their places at their table, and Maka glanced around to see how her fellow counselors were faring. She didn't have to look far to find Liz and Patty's table, who were right next to them in cabin 11. Kid's campers in cabin 8 seemed to have taken a liking to him, as they were taking turns trying to climb on him. One by one, he flipped them off of his shoulders and down into their chairs.

Since Soul and Black*Star were co-counselors - bless those poor children's souls - she located them both at once. Cabin 12 certainly didn't look boring. She watched Soul try to keep one of the kids from pulling underwear over his friend's head as Black*Star showed the others how to show off their arm muscles.

Their first dinner passed quickly, and the return of all the camp beverages was an instant hit. They sipped on Bug Juice, lemonade, and an innocuous mixture called Death Punch - which was really just a mixture of the other two drinks, but the swirling colors it made inside the glass left the kids' imaginations open to far more nefarious ideas about its origin.

As they gorged themselves, the older cabins started leading cheers, singing songs and creating a general racket in their excitement to be back. The younger campers joined in enthusiastically, smacking their hands on the table with glee. The atmosphere was infectious, and the counselors couldn't help clapping along.

Dessert that night was a bizarre concoction called Soul Sludge, a red, jello-based pudding that was slimy and jiggly and nobody usually could stomach - except this year, apparently.

"You guys don't like this stuff?!" she could hear Soul saying indignantly from a couple tables away. "Oh man, it's so good! You don't want yours?"

He gulped another one down, and the slurping sounds he was making stood out against the din of the cafeteria. "We never had this when I was a camper. It's just so good, the way it just slides down your throat–"

She was prevented from commenting on this disgusting declaration by the administrative staff, who had just appeared at the front of the room to welcome them.

""Hellooooooo everyo–... ahem," the director said, suddenly clearing his throat. He turned to his left. "Spirit, would you get some water for me please? I've just been talking so much today!"

Spirit grumbled something and stalked off, coming back with a glass of water and handing it to Death, still muttering to himself. Maka smirked. Glorified secretary, indeed.

"As I was saying," the director continued. "Welcome back to camp, kids! We are so excited to finally have you here. I wanted to explain to you who everyone is, and who you can come to for whatever you need..."

Introductions went as they normally did. Spirit grumpily introduced himself, insisting that he was actually a really useful and important person at camp, _and don't you forget it_. Plus, he only tried to put his arm around Medusa once, so that was a victory. Stein made everyone wary about visiting the doctor's cabin for another year running. The nurses still managed to appear halfway normal even with their bizarre wardrobe choices.

And when it was all over, the director sent them back into the drizzly rain. On the way back to the cabins, the campers sloshed their way through the mud, literally jumping for joy as puddles burst beneath their feet.

* * *

As the beginning days of camp faded into the end of the first week, nights of Truth or Dare, hair braiding and flashlight-enhanced ghost stories became the norm. This particular evening was quiet; a couple of girls were reading, and a pair in the corner were working their way through a Cat's Cradle. A gaggle of risk-takers were attempting to build a card house on one of the beds, ordering one another to stay perfectly still as they sat attentively on the mattress.

Maka, on the other hand, was waiting. It was the one and only time this summer that she was actually excited for the loudspeaker to ring out. A rumor had gone around that the counselors would soon be on their way to the counselor cabin for a slightly less quiet evening.

Tsubaki met her eyes over the friendship bracelet she was making, and the two of them smiled at each other. On the bed in the corner, the girls continued their building, tiptoeing around their card house with a level of concentration they normally only reserved for passing notes to the boys at breakfast.

It was lucky the mattress didn't serve as a particularly strong foundation, because they hadn't gotten very far by the time the dulcet tones of the loudspeaker's "Listen up, you imbeciles!" echoed their way through camp. The sound of cards scattering to the ground was masked by their heavy groans.

"Counselors to the counselor cabin! E.A.T. campers to your cabins! Don't make me say it twice!" it said, cutting off abruptly.

"E...A...T?" Tsugumi asked.

"It stands for Extra Assistance Trainees," Anya said, "An older camper comes and watches us when the counselors go have meetings and stuff."

"I wonder who–," Maka said, and before she could finish, there came a thundering knock at the door. Before she could even reach forward to open it, it swung open to reveal the infamous Kim Diehl. Cabin 21. Rule-breaker and counselor-sasser extraordinaire.

Maka and Tsubaki exchanged a horrified look.

"'Sup," Kim said, walking into the cabin, muddy boots tracking their way into the center of the room. "I'll handle things from here," she said as she popped a large gum bubble, shooing Maka and Tsubaki away. Tsubaki started to inch her way out the door, but Maka stood stock still, unwilling to relinquish her hold on Cabin 13 so easily.

"I'm expecting the cabin to be spotless when we get back, Diehl," she said, taking advantage of the chance to put her infamous bossiness to good use. "Spit out the gum. Don't give them candy this late. And _no pranks_."

It was a necessary rule to emphasize. Last summer, several "miscommunications" about pranking had resulted in Kim being able to execute some seriously impressive ones – including one involving rearranging the furniture in Kid's cabin that had actually been pretty clever. She'd eventually been forced to retire her antics, but Maka knew all about the new excitement that came with a new summer, and sometimes that manifested itself in chaotic ways - _especially_ for Kim Diehl.

"Got it, chief," Kim said, standing up tall and saluting. "You can leave now. They're in good hands, I _promise_."

Maka's shoulders rose up to meet her ears in a huff as she walked to the door. She pointed two fingers at her eyes, and then pointed back at Kim, hoping the threat of _I'm watching you_ would be enough to stave off any Kim Diehl-sponsored collateral damage. She was not convinced.

But as they waved goodbye to the girls and started their trek up the hill to the counselor cabin, the hesitation she felt at leaving them behind with such questionable influences slowly vanished. Across camp, a sprinkling of flashlight beams flitted between the trees, finding purchase along the trails and the bark of the pines as the other counselors moved in the direction of the counselor cabin.

* * *

"What's up, what's up! Good evening!"

Across the floor of the lounge, conversations drifted to a halt as Lord Death's tittering voice made itself known. Maka, Tsubaki, Liz and Patty were all seated together, and they exchanged knowing glances as the lights in the room dimmed.

"Tonight, you'll be learning about another camp tradition," the Director began, as torches – _real_ torches this time, she noticed, giving the director the side-eye – burst into flame behind him.

For all of his bravado about safety, when it came to tradition he seemed to throw all of his fire regulations out the window. The shadows of the fire danced along his mask, and he looked like a shadow, his face flickering ominously in the darkness of the room.

"This tradition is a contest," he began. "And this contest is one of camp's deepest, most well-kept secrets. It is more than just a competition. It is a sacred exchange between two teams, two halves of the cohesive, powerful collective that makes up our counselor staff. It has been around for as long as camp has existed, and it is this tradition, in addition to their love for the campers, that brings so many counselors back beneath our hallowed torches every summer."

"This summer, new counselors, you will join one of the following teams: the Weapons, or the Meisters. Much like your commitment to this camp, you are committed to your team for life," he said. "So allow me to introduce you to them."

He held out his left hand, and the torch to his left shot up in a rush of flames, bathing the counselors in heat and light. She could imagine Stein in the back, having a delightful time working the propane in those torches.

"The Meisters are known for being resourceful, cunning, and bold," he said. "They strive for greatness, though sometimes their stubbornness can be more of a curse than a blessing. They are not fearless, but they are calm in the face of pressure and they will always give their best, no matter how tough the odds may be."

Maka felt a rush of pride at this particular introduction. Surrounded by members of the Weapon team, she tried her best not to grin too broadly.

Death stretched out his right hand, and as the second torch shot up, she thought she heard a cackle of glee from inside Stein and Spirit's shared office, solidifying her theories about the Good Doctor and his affinity for pyrotechnics.

"The Weapons, on the other hand, are fiercely protective and quietly prideful," the Director continued. "Members of this team come in many forms, but they share similarities. Their mental and physical resolve are unrivaled. They are highly adaptable, self-sacrificing, and are often able to compromise their individual needs for the success of the group. The strength of their loyalty makes them formidable opponents."

"Throughout the summer, you will compete in three tasks," he explained as the flames retreated back to their normal, no longer Stein-enhanced levels. "And you will be at odds, that's true. But this friendly competition is meant to encourage community. And nobody will be a better example of that than your captains."

Maka stilled, excitement coursing through her as Tsubaki grinned at her knowingly.

"Before you start your tasks, this is your first step: choosing your team captains," Death continued. "In the next few days, you will all receive a clue. If being a captain interests you, you must discern the meaning of this clue, for only those with an intimate knowledge of camp and its intricacies are worthy of such an honor."

Maka's eyes glowed at the challenge, eager for the chance to prove herself.

"The captains have 24 hours to follow the clue and sign their name onto the hidden Captain's Board, thereby nominating themselves. After 24 hours, there will be a vote. You will all cast a vote for both captains."

"Yes, that's right," he said as the counselors started to look at each other quizzically. "And for those that are considering casting a sabotage vote, consider this: the stronger your opposing team's leader, the more rewarding it will be when you beat them."

Dark laughter permeated the crowd of counselors, and she could see the new counselors catching the fever, their excitement at being assigned to a team reaching its peak.

"You will find out your tasks from your captains, once they are announced. But first: tonight, you will find out the teams that fate has assigned to you."

Liz let out a little sigh at this. "I don't really think you can call a _coin flip_ the same thing as fate, honestly…"

"Shhh, sis, it's flashy!" Patty chided her, bouncing up and down as Death pulled out a stack of old parchment paper, preparing to read out the names.

The returning counselors stood up and migrated to each side of the room; the other three girls grinned as they waved goodbye to Maka. She joined the Meister ranks, filing in between Black*Star and Kid.

Black*Star shot her a look; she knew they'd both be gunning for captain this year. _Bring it on_ , she thought. Both sides got ready to greet their new members with cheers, and as each name was called, the new counselors ran into the welcoming arms of their teammates.

When Crona was called to join the Meister ranks, she was thrilled, smiling fondly at Crona's confusion at all of the hugging and high-fiving that was going on.

When a certain red-eyed nemesis of hers ended up crossing the room to join the Weapons, a jolt of competitiveness shot through her and her eyes lit up at the possibilities.

* * *

It was pushing midnight by the time they sleepily made their way down the hill. She was just thinking about how happy she'd be to snuggle up in her bed when the familiar form of one _Kim Diehl_ shot past her, followed by eight shorter pairs of running, stumbling feet.

"What are you girls doing out of–" she started to say, and then more pairs of feet ran past her, yelling after them.

"Just a little bonding time with their favorite E.A.T counselor," Kim yelled back gleefully.

Soul and Black*Star appeared behind her suddenly. "What the – are those our kids?!" Black*Star said, pointing at the boys that were chasing their cabin.

" _Damn it_ , Diehl, what did you do," Maka muttered, and the four of them ran back to the girls' side of camp, straight into the cabin.

Once inside, the very guilty faces of cabin 13 gazed up at them. Cabin 12's faces, on the other hand, had mini hearts and rainbows drawn on them in various shades of preteen girls' makeup.

"They look better this way, don't they?" Kim said, and Maka shot her a look.

"Out, Diehl," she said, opening the door, as Soul and Black*Star gathered up their charges. Kim walked out the door, thoroughly pleased with herself, and winked at the girls conspiratorially before Maka shut the door in her face.

Soul and Black*Star corralled all of the boys back outside, and as Tsubaki stepped in to talk to the girls, Maka shut the door and came outside with them.

"Sorry about that," she said to the group. Soul looked up at her.

"Oh, it's no problem," he said, suddenly smiling for some reason. He threw his arm around one of the kids' shoulders as they turned to walk back to their cabin.

"Yeah, no problem at all, Maka," Black*Star said, catching on, and they were both grinning in a way she didn't like one bit.

"... This just means we'll have to get you back, eventually," Soul said, turning back to face the way he was walking. "You understand."

She crossed her arms and watched them walk away, feeling very uneasy about this particular turn of events.

"Nighty night!" they said together, waving back without looking at her. The boys started laughing, and the ten of them began talking in hushed tones as they walked, the maniacal tenor of _plotting_ evident in their tone.

Maka was starting to realize that this summer was going to play out much differently than she'd planned.


	3. In My Room at Night

As these things tend to go in the summertime, the days began to merge together, cloudless afternoon skies blending into evening cricket symphonies as the slow, steady heartbeat of camp reached its full rhythm.

On this particular evening, the girls of cabin 13 climbed the hill, blankets and stuffed animals in hand, arms linked to avoid losing each other in the fray of people on their way to tonight's event.

Instead of heading to the counselor cabin, the line snaked around the hillside until the forest opened up into a hollow. By the time they arrived, almost everyone had gathered on the small hill, forming one conglomerate of hoodies and blankets and excitement.

As they edged closer, they spotted Soul and Black*Star's cabin seated near the front of the column.

"Probably best to stay away from there," Tsubaki said wryly, noticing how all of the girls had tensed up at the sight of their new rivals.

Tsugumi glanced up at Maka and Maka grinned at her, tightening the arm she had thrown around her shoulders. "Let's leave the boys be – at least for tonight."

They wandered farther up the hill, finally finding a spot next to Liz and Patty's cabin. The four counselors sat together again, chatting as the sun began its slow descent through the trees, the promise of a starry night setting the scene for the first campfire of the season.

Beside them, staff members were strolling past intermittently, transporting items from the counselor house for the evening skits. As the two nurses shuffled down the hill carrying a large piece of cardboard, the four of them jumped when one of them dropped the sheet with a thud.

"Eeegh!" shrieked nurse Medusa, waving her arms frantically around her face. "There was a _mosquito on me_ , I heard it!"

She paused suddenly when she realized she had an audience, and shot them all an aggravated look before picking up the cardboard again. Nygus looked at her strangely, but kept walking, ultimately unphased. At the bottom of the hill, Medusa took off one of her shoes and shook it. A large pile of dirt fell out of it, much to her very evident disgust.

"She's not a big fan of the outdoors, is she?" Liz said evenly, raising an eyebrow.

"It… doesn't seem like it, no," Maka said, but then their musings were interrupted by Lord Death, who had arrived to light the campfire.

She had expected him to speak, but instead he simply leaned in, extending the long stick he was carrying towards the flames. A small flame hovered at its tip, whipping back and forth slightly in the breeze. With dramatic flair, he pushed the stick into the bottom of the bonfire, and suddenly the entire structure erupted into purple flames, fiery tendrils stretching towards the sky.

As the sun began to disappear beneath the clouds, the blaze slowly became the only source of light in the forest, bathing the hillside in hot, purple light as cabins came up to showcase their skits, their jokes, and even some truly impressive feats, Maka noted as two of the younger campers who called their act "Fire and Thunder" finished skillfully performing an acrobatics routine.

They hadn't had a chance to plan a skit, and apparently neither had cabin 12. Probably more concerned with trying to catch up after their relatively sleepless evening several nights before, she thought as she glanced down at them warily.

Just as the campers' eyes had started to droop, she noticed that the admin staff were all milling behind the campfire, and it dawned on her that the giant cardboard piece they had seen hadn't yet made its debut. Just as she had time to register this, Lord Death resumed his place in front of the campfire.

"For our final act this evening, we'll be passing out a piece of this to each of you," Death said, and behind him, the administrative staff flipped the giant piece of cardboard around to reveal a purple night sky, with yellow stars embedded in its design.

"There is darkness in all of us," he said, taking a section of the cardboard between his hands and ripping off a piece. He held it up, and the dark purple in the cardboard blended in with the dark forest behind him. "We say things we don't mean, and we do things we shouldn't do."

"But we've also got light," he continued, pointing to the star in the piece's center. "It brings us back to the better side of ourselves." He started to bounce up and down, cheerfulness returning by leaps and bounds. "It brings us laughter! And hope! And without it, we'd all be living in darkness."

"But if you want to be friends with someone," he cautioned. "You have to accept both: their darkness and their light. Light alone brings us no balance. Without darkness, we wouldn't understand the beauty of this fire."

"Your task for this week is: find someone to whom you have shown darkness this week. Someone whose feelings you have hurt, or who you've lost patience with. And then, show them your light. Hand them this piece, and show them who you are. You might just make an unlikely friend."

Maka smiled, thinking this might be the best lesson she'd ever seen him give to the campers.

"That'll be all for tonight!" he said, and as everyone started to stand up and gather their belongings, he added, "If one of the counselors from each cabin would please come here while the other takes their campers back to the cabin, that would be great. It'll just be a minute."

Tsubaki and Maka glanced at each other, and the silent arrangement was made quickly and seamlessly. Tsubaki stood up, getting ready to gather the girls together as Maka walked down to the bottom of the hill.

As everyone shuffled away into the darkness, the remaining counselors gathered around Death, who was ripping off pieces of cardboard with the help of Stein and Spirit. Maka casually walked to the part of the group that was the furthest from her father, which left her, she realized too late, standing next to Soul. Ignoring her existence seemed to be the way he'd chosen to greet her tonight, so she did the same.

"I hope you enjoyed the final activity tonight," Death said, and there came a flurry of nods from the counselors. "I called you up here because I'd like you to keep track of how your campers are handling it. Over the next week, check in with them and see if they've given out their piece, and what they said."

The group acknowledged this, a few counselors shooting him thumbs-ups in agreement. Next to her, Soul grunted his assent. She was starting to realize how sparingly he used words to communicate. Like a caveman.

"Also," the director said, brandishing pieces of cardboard in the air. "This activity isn't limited to the campers. I'd like you to think about someone who you've been unkind to this week. Try to make a friend with someone you've been at odds with."

The ground suddenly became a very interesting place to investigate as Maka thought about people in her immediate vicinity that she'd been unwilling to befriend. To her left, Soul had become immersed in fiddling with his hair.

"Come on up here and grab two pieces – pass one on to your co-counselor too," Death said, and the crowd of counselors started to shuffle forward, grabbing pairs of cardboard as they walked. Maka tried very hard to move towards Death and Stein, but Soul stayed beside her, now seemingly fascinated with his jacket's zipper. She scowled as the crowd pushed over towards Spirit. Once his gaze landed on her, his eyes brightened.

"Makaaaaa! Come grab some twinkly stars from your papa! They're so pretty, just like you, sweetie!"

Maka held out her hand, grumpily accepting her father's proffered cardboard. "Thanks, Papa," she muttered, and stalked off towards her cabin.

"You're welcome, my sweet Maka!" came her father's crooning reply. Behind her, she heard a small snort, and the snorter's identity was no mystery.

"Yes, _hilarious_ ," she drawled without turning around.

"Whaaat? It's just so nice to see the two of you getting along," his rumbling voice said behind her, the picture of innocence.

Opting for silence instead of encouraging him, she started walking as quickly as she could without actually running away. There was no way he was getting any cardboard presents from her anytime soon.

* * *

The start of the second week brought the start of nights off. On top of the one (sacred) day off they had per week, nights off were a shorter respite from the soul-sucking energy of the kids. While one counselor stayed behind with the campers, the other had the night off to do as they pleased. Every cabin followed a different pattern, so the people with whom Maka would be spending her time on any given night was always a mixed bag.

Tonight she found herself in the counselor cabin, surrounded by Liz, Kid, and both Soul and Black*Star, whose campers were off on a camping trip with Sid. Kid had managed to dig up some playing cards and they had settled in for an evening of card games.

Just as they were preparing for another round of Bullshit, the door of the Death's office crashed open to reveal an absolutely livid Ox Ford, who was storming toward the main door without looking at any of them.

"I already told you, I did _not_ have it out!" he was saying. Stein and Spirit emerged in the doorway, both looking slightly shocked at the intensity of Ox's departure. He whirled around to face the two of them again.

"I don't know how it got there," he said pleadingly – while still managing to sound condescending, as only Ox can. "And I won't stand for this ridiculous punishment. Please tell Lord Death I'd like to speak with him directly in the morning."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, another door crashing agitatedly behind him. Behind them, someone got up and shut the office door again, leaving the group of them alone in the room again.

Everyone regarded one another in silence, waiting for someone else to break the silence.

"Uh… what?" Black*Star finally said.

"I heard my father talking to the two of them this afternoon," Kid said, pointing at the closed office door with his thumb. "I think one of the kids found Ox's cell phone lying on his bed this morning, and word got around throughout the day."

This sort of thing was news to Maka; normally the counselors were quite good about respecting the No Phones rule. They were expected to take Death's yearly warning to heart and hand their phones in to the admins for the summer.

"Huh," she said when no one said anything. "Well uh…" She slid a card onto the table face down. "One two." Everyone nodded and started to look back at their cards.

Liz was just about to play before Black*Star said, "Bull _shit,_ Maka! I have all four!"

Maka groaned and took back her six of spades.

"Did you forget to shuffle again?" Soul asked Black*Star suddenly, looking curiously at his cards.

Black*Star looked down at his own cards for a very long couple of seconds.

"… Shuffling is for the weak!" he declared, tossing his cards into the air and letting them rain down on everyone as he initiated the ultimate shuffling cover-up scheme.

"Ugh, give me those," Maka said irritably, taking back everyone's cards and pulling them into a bridge.

"Don't be grumpy because you're bad at lying!" Black*Star said happily.

"I'm _grumpy_ because this is the third time I've had to shuffle for you," she gritted out.

The rest of the evening continued much like this, and after a couple more shuffling incidents, they called it quits and headed back to their cabins to sleep.

The next day, Maka was tying the sailboats up to the dock, double-checking each knot for accuracy. With a scowl, she looked over at Soul, who seemed to be double-checking the insides of his eyelids again. She got up and nudged his head with her foot, being less careful than she normally would have with other, less obstinate head casings. He grunted at her.

"Get up," she said, and when he didn't move, she trudged away, lest she be associated with his ridiculous lack of work ethic. If she had to spend the rest of her time on the lake working around his lazing, then it was going to be a very, very long summer.

"C'mon, let's bring the boat over to the gas dock," she said irritably. Soul huffed at this, but he also sat up and clambered into the boat. He let the ignition sing to life as Maka pushed them away from the dock.

The other dock wasn't far – just a little ways along the lakeshore. After so many surprise visits from the fire brigade in recent years, Death had decided to tap into a gas tank further away from human existence. This meant that every afternoon, the two of them made their way down the shore to refill the gas tank in the boat, pointedly ignoring each other most of the time.

It was likely that today would be no different, save for the fact that Maka had been thinking about something, and for the first time today, she wasn't surrounded by children's oversensitive ears. Soul wouldn't normally have been her first choice for this type of discussion, but she'd been waiting to talk it out with someone.

"Hey, Soul?" she said over the dull hum of the engine. "Don't you think it's a bit weird that Ox got caught with a phone?"

He glanced at her, then back at the lake, and then shrugged.

"Dunno," he grunted, his voice so low that it barely carried over the engine's roar.

"It just seems like… he's too much of a rule-follower to have done that," she mused, leaning back against the padded seat next to Soul. He thought about it for a minute.

"And even if he did do it, he's too smart to get caught," he added, nodding in agreement.

Hesitant as she was to ever give Ox any credit, Soul was probably right.

"Hm," she said. "It doesn't really make any sense."

They spent the rest of the short ride in silence, and finally, as the boat bumped up against the dock and Soul cut the ignition, he turned to her.

"It's probably nothing," he said. "He probably screwed up and was trying to save his own skin. There's nothing else we can assume, is there?"

"…No," Maka said defeatedly. "I guess there isn't."

Even so, intuition was telling her that Ox Ford wouldn't put his neck on the line for something so stupid.

* * *

That night, her confusion about Ox was set aside when the girls decided to put on their own campfire in the tiny fire pit near their cabin.

They munched on banana boats, singing songs and laughing, chocolate and marshmallow sticking to even the most careful fingers and cheeks. Maka grabbed her banana wrapped in foil out of the flames with tweezers and left it on the ground to cool, letting the conversation and the crackle of the fire drift around her.

"Ooooh, we should tell ghost stories!" one of the girls exclaimed. It was clear from their mixed reactions that there were bound to be some uneasy sleepers in the cabin this evening. Nonetheless, after some convincing they all snuggled in together, eyes round and restless as the fire warmed their faces in the darkness.

"I've got one," Meme said. "It's about a witch. And they say she lives in these very woods."

There came a soft gasp from some of the girls, and Meme almost smiled at her captivated audience, before she pulled herself back, regarding them seriously.

"She's a cunning witch – one of the cleverest there ever was," she began. "She walks between the cabins, some nights, looking for victims, so that she can possess them, bend and use them to her will. And when she catches you, she'll lock you up - make you do things, evil things, over and over, until you've forgotten who you are. Until you're her puppet. And then, once you can't resist anymore, she draws all of the blood out of you - down to the last drop. But instead of letting you die, she takes your blood and _turns it black_."

The girls looked around at each other, confused about this part, and Meme enjoyed this moment of silence before she continued.

"They found someone that she'd gotten her fangs into, once. In that old church down the street," she said. "They walked up, real slow, and when they turned him over, he was _smiling_. And there it was, leaking all around him, from a giant gash on his chest. _His blood was black_."

The girls all screeched at this, the shrill echoes of their voices bouncing off the trees. Maka laughed a little nervously. As dumb as they could be, ghost stories still had a way of getting under her skin.

As she ushered the girls into the cabin before bedtime, she took another glance at the trees, the stillness of the night giving her a chill as she let the door creak shut behind her. It was probably in her head, she knew, but it seemed like the moonlight drifting through the tiny crescents had a different hue tonight; darker, more sinister.

_She takes your blood and turns it black._

Flashlights started to flicker off as the girls drifted into slumber one by one. Shadows of the trees moved against the windows, thin fingers stretching, trying to slide in through the vulnerable cracks in the wood.

For Maka, sleep came fitfully that night, images of tiny churches and gushing gore circling on loops in her mind. The darkness of the cabin drifted in and out of her vision, bloody crescent moons making stars in her vision. The crescents soon transformed into a pair of bloody eyes, looming over her in the darkness, a sheet pulled taut across the face so that only stark red irises shone down on her.

_His blood was black._

Half awake and fully terrified, she sat up in bed as she realized that this figure was actually very real, very _in her cabin_ , and did the only logical thing someone could do in such a situation.

She screamed, and punched it in the face.

  
[ ](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)  


Her scream sent the rest of the cabin jumping out of their beds, but she only had eyes for the red-eyed figure that had let out a grunty shriek of its own and collapsed beside her bed, clutching its face.

As the rest of the cabin dissolved into chaos and people scurried around behind her, she reached down and pulled the sheet off, glaring down at the figure. She belatedly realized that her black-blooded attacker was actually a very stunned Soul, who was currently sprawled on the ground nursing one spectacular nosebleed.

"What the _fuck_ , Maka," he said, putting the sheet up back up against his face to stop the bleeding and for one second, his blood kind of did look black, especially in the dim light of the cabin. She looked down at her fist in a daze, still foggy from sleep.

As her mind snapped out of combat mode, she realized that the din in the rest of the cabin had been caused by another collection of ghostly figures – that is, a collection of eight preteen-sized 'ghosts' with sheets over their heads, whose sheets a grouchy Tsubaki was pulling off one by one. Black*Star was sheepishly standing next to her; he had evidently never encountered sleep-deprived Tsubaki's wrath, and was currently learning exactly what that looked like.

Maka turned back to Soul, who was clambering to his feet, sheet now wrapped around his face like a tourniquet.

"Who tries to punch a ghost," he muttered, voice thick and nasally. "Wouldn't even work." She'd been trying to feel any bit of sympathy for hitting him square in the nose, but she wasn't having much success.

"Clearly it worked out pretty well for me," she said, and he grunted his assent.

In the meantime, Angry Tsubaki was shepherding the boys out of the cabin and tossing sheets in their faces as the girls started to calm down. It seemed that, other than Soul, the boys were pleased with the results of their scare, high-fiving each other as they walked out of the cabin.

"You just didn't dissolve in the darkness well enough, dude," Black*Star said, clapping Soul on the back as they walked out of the cabin.

"I think I might've dissolved too well," Soul replied as the door clanged shut behind them.

As their voices faded away, Maka and Tsubaki shared a grimace and clambered back into their beds. Suddenly the branches scratching at the windows felt a lot less murderous and a lot more manageable.

Soon after, Maka fell back asleep with ease, the threat of evil witches and their takeover plots drifting to the back of her mind.

* * *

The next morning, Maka and Tsubaki collapsed at their table, the girls dropping beside them one after the other. She remarked with slight amusement that every single one of them was wearing the same expression: exhausted, but determined. Digging into her oatmeal, she tried to keep the conversation light and cheerful in case the boys were watching them.

There was no better way to throw them off their guard when they were all secretly plotting revenge for the night before.

When she got up to grab milk for the table, however, her revenge plots were placed on hold for the moment. Under the corner of a plate was a crumpled-up note. Judging by the worn, aged look of the paper, she knew exactly what it was upon first sight. She struggled to keep her face neutral as she strolled casually to the drink station, grabbed a pitcher and slowly filled it.

On the way back to her table, she threw a loaded look Tsubaki's way before carefully sliding the piece of paper out from under her plate and under the table to read. When she saw the purple calligraphy, she had to stop and fully control the muscles in her cheeks to keep from grinning in excitement. When she finally managed to reign in her emotions, she unfolded the paper and read in goofy purple script:

_The sacred leaf your heart does seek_  
_Lies close, but also far beneath._  
_Three quarters' turn, and round about_  
_Unearths a muddy sort of grout_  
_With three steps more, along the floor  
_ _Tap into what you're looking for!_

She read the text three times over, committing it to memory before gently nudging Tsubaki with her foot and passing the paper into her eager hands. She asked the girls about their plans for the day, trying her best to avoid glancing at her friend. After a few moments, she watched Tsubaki walk nonchalantly over to cabin 12's table, dropping the paper into Black*Star's hand in a way that made the entire exchange almost invisible.

Maka was impressed; she'd never seen Black*Star be so coy in her three years of knowing him. When it came down to it, she supposed, there were some secrets so hallowed that even Black*Star was willing to keep them.

Throughout the entire day, she was wired. She couldn't wait for night to fall so that she could go searching for it. Since they only had 24 hours to get the job done, she desperately hoped that her theories about its location were correct. She'd already worked it all out, but she took a certain pride in being one of the first to throw her name on the list.

"Settle down, jeez," Soul said to her that afternoon as the kids swam around in the water, gleefully ignoring their instructions to stay close to the dock. He lowered his voice, even though there was no way the kids would be able to hear him. "You already know where it is, anyway."

"How do you know that?" she said, looking up as she rubbed in sunscreen on her shoulders.

He stretched out, placing his arms behind his head in what would have been a relaxed gesture, if she hadn't known he was doing it to annoy her. It would have looked more impressive without the massive black bruise running across his nose and cheeks.

"Because if I can figure out where it is, obviously you can, right?"

"What?!" she said a little too loudly, then blanched and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Did you already find–?"

"Now Maka," he said, putting on an imitation of her voice that was far too on-point for someone who had only known her a couple weeks. "We aren't supposed to say if we've found the list, you know that."

His resulting grin was so infuriating that she actually had to turn away from him for a moment to gather her wits. He was bluffing, wasn't he? She didn't understand why it would bother her so much if he'd found it first. Other than the fact that, y'know, he was the embodiment of everything awful in the universe.

"Don't worry," he said, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes and sighing happily. "I know you're always a step and a half ahead of where you should be."

She glanced back at him curiously, thinking this was an odd choice of words for him, but said nothing. He seemed to be lost in thought again… or had fallen back asleep. She still couldn't tell the difference.

* * *

That night, Tsubaki had gracefully agreed to stay in on her night off to let Maka go sleuthing, so once dinner had ended, Maka stayed behind and hung out behind the dining hall, waiting for the masses to make their way back to their cabins. Once the stragglers had left, she crept around the side and started looking for something, anything that might give her a way to get underneath the dining hall.

She found it almost instantly. In the building's siding, there was a gap that revealed a person-sized hole when she swung it sideways, and she slipped through it without a second thought.

Once inside, her eyes adjusted to dusty room she found herself in. It was dark except for a doorway at the other side of the room. At the door, glowing lamps illuminated a stairwell leading down, their shadows bouncing off the walls of the staircase.

With a grin, she descended the stairs, which wound around three times, only to open up into another tiny, dark room with a mud floor. More lanterns cast shadows on the gray stone walls of the room, which was empty except for a large, grinning skull that stretched from floor to ceiling.

She walked up to the skull warily, knowing she'd found the right place but unsure of how to proceed. She thought about the rest of the clue: _three steps more, along the floor_.

She stared at the skull for another moment and then walked three steps past it.

When she took her third step, she tapped on the wall, holding her breath. Nothing happened.

She frowned, puzzled. Something should be here. She set to work knocking on the wall at different heights, but before she could get too frazzled, what Soul had said at the lake popped back into her head:

_You're always a step and half ahead of where you should be._

She regarded the wall angrily, as if it had wronged her somehow, and took a step back, followed by another small half-step. She held out her hand and, almost hoping that it _wouldn't_ work, rapped on the wall once with her knuckles.

At her summons, a panel in the stone wall popped open, stone grating against stone as it lifted forward, revealing a small panel. Inside was an old parchment paper list, and there was only one other name at the top, written in a lazy scrawl: Soul Evans.

She stared at it for a moment, then picked up the pen and, in an act of bold defiance, wrote her name in the neatest, most perfect penmanship she could muster in the bright purple ink from the attached pen. When she stepped away from the panel, it popped back into place with a click.

Just when she thought nothing could get any worse, a corny little replica of Death's gloved hand popped out of the wall in its place, wiggling back and forth on a spring in a tipsy thumbs-up. Still annoyed at Soul, she frowned at the hand as it wobbled to and fro.

* * *

The next day at the lake, she could feel herself walking on eggshells. As much as she wanted to demand answers from him, there were far too many kids at the lake today for her to be even a little coy about getting her questions addressed. Seeming to sense her irritation at this, Soul had shot her a thumbs-up early in the day - and then wiggled it around.

Someone that was still sporting two black eyes should not be nearly this smug about anything.

Today's lakeside activity that kept the campers around the dock was the ever-entertaining task of standing up on the back of the kayaks. Eager to prove who had the best balance, the campers turned the boats upside down in the water and challenged each other to stay up the longest.

"That doesn't even look hard," Soul said after a few minutes of this, and Maka actually had to agree, as the kids toppled into the water after a few seconds.

"Bet you can't stay up for any longer!" one of the kids yelled at him.

Soul grinned and, glancing at her suddenly, replied, "Bet I can stay up longer than Maka!"

She smirked back at him, thrilled that a chance to vent her frustrations at him had fallen into her lap. Both of them yanked their staff polos over their heads in an effort to jump into the water first. This was definitely an unfair race, since only Maka had to unclip her lifejacket to do this, Soul having "forgotten" his again.

She was annoyed to find, however, that as he took off his shirt, her eyes fell on some very _distracting_ back muscles that she hadn't seen before and that, quite frankly, had no business being there, if she had anything to say about it. Shoulder blades jutted out behind him as he pulled the shirt down his arms, and she trying to quell whatever sudden feelings she was having about _those_ until he turned around.

Her unanticipated ogling came to a momentary halt as her eyes fell on a thick red scar that stretched from (an also very distracting) hip bone up to just under his left collarbone. With his raccoon eyes, it looked like he'd just escaped a nasty bar fight.

As he tossed his shirt back onto the dock, he caught her staring at the scar and grinned a little as he eased himself into the water.

"Turns out the crazy camp doctor is good for something after all," he said from the water, pointing at the scarred skin again which, when she looked more closely, was shaped exactly like Stein's trademark stitches.

Her jaw fell open a little and she wondered what the rest of that story was, but for the moment she resigned herself to her impending kayak battle, tossing her lifeguarding shorts aside as she jumped into the water.

They stayed out there for a time, legs approaching newborn calf status as they tried to outlast one another. Eventually, the kids grew bored of watching them and moved on, but competitiveness drove both of them forward. They continued, over and over until one of them went sprawling into the water, the other never far behind.

Once they were finally willing to call it a tie, they collapsed onto the dock, and Maka finally took a leaf out of Soul's book for once and closed her eyes for a few minutes, letting the afternoon sun warm her face.

She eventually peeked over at him again. He was lying there cloud-gazing, arms behind his head. Now that she'd noticed, she struggled _not_ take note of how nice his arms looked in that position. Wondering what in actual god's name was coming over her, she mentally grasped for a distraction before she noticed any other previously unnoticed assets he happened to possess.

Luckily, she _did_ have other things to distract her. Taking stock of how far away the kids were and realizing they were out of earshot, she sat up a little, turning to look him, and she saw his eyes slide in her direction.

"Why did you help me?" she asked. His resulting sigh sounded less strangled than usual, so he had probably been expecting this question.

"It was my good deed for the day, okay?" he said, eyes back on the sky. "I spent like 20 minutes in there, and if I'd known all I had to do was take a couple less steps, it coul-"

"But you told me a step and a half," she said.

"Yeah, well," he said, and he looked a little shocked – almost guilty – as he scratched his head. "Your... legs are longer," he finally grumbled.

"You accounted for the _size of my steps_?" she said disbelievingly.

He grumbled something else and turned away from her, putting an effective end to that portion of their conversation.

"Don't think this means I'll go easy on you," she said to his back, absolutely not noticing the little curves and dips in his shoulder blades as she said it.

He choked out a laugh. "I know better than that."

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and once they'd put all the life jackets away and the kids had raced back to their cabins to get ready for dinner, she turned to him at the door of the lake house.

"Sorry, by the way," she said, scuffing her feet against the ground. "About your face."

He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "S'fine. Was a perfectly normal reaction. For you, anyway." She glared at him, but she certainly couldn't deny it.

After they locked up the house, the two of them walked back up the path to their cabins, bags slung over their shoulders, and as he split off to go to his cabin, she watched him walk away.

For the first time in her life, Maka was forced to consider whether it was possible to only dislike someone until they took their shirt off.


	4. It's a Web Made

As distracting as the afternoon had been, dinner drove all shirtless contemplations out of Maka's mind for the time being.

The campers were a little stir crazy, and she and Tsubaki had to resort to playing several rounds of Down by the River with the girls in order to distract them from their excess energy, hands slapping in a circle around the table. Armed with Lord Death's encouragement and Stein's intimidation, the admin staff also bounced around the room, trying to help quell the kids' excitement.

The cabin was just getting back from the buffet, forks poised and ready to devour their meal, when a loud, tinkling sound carried over the room, a jingle immediately recognizable as the default iPhone ringtone.

The room fell silent at once; the kids knew about the phone rule just as well as the counselors, and the source of the ringing immediately became evident. From the other side of the dining hall, Maka could see Jackie holding her hand out towards Kim.

As the room watched, Kim dug her phone out of her bag and slapped it into Jackie's hand. From where Maka was, it looked like they were arguing; Kim mouthed something like "I didn't–" before she turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining hall, double doors slamming behind her and making everyone jump.

As the dining hall settled down, Maka glanced back at Soul, and he met her gaze as well. There was nothing to read into – Kim was a blatant rule-breaker if there ever was one – but here they were, glancing at each other with narrowed eyes, reading into it anyway.

They also didn't have time to discuss it after dinner. They'd been shepherded out of the dining hall quickly, the admin clearly looking to dispel the rapidly changing energy in the room.

She wanted to mention what was going on to Tsubaki, but for the moment, for some reason, she felt like she wanted to keep her theories between herself and Soul, carefully sidestepping any potential reasons for _why_ she'd be feeling that way.

Since 24 hours had now passed since the release of the captain clue, a whispery rumor had whipped through the counselors – instigated by the director and company, no doubt – that it was time to vote. She took a moment to reflect on the amount of times Death had enabled them being out of bed in the middle of the night, and wondered how any of the counselors managed to function at all.

Once the girls were asleep, Tsubaki went first, gliding through crescent-shaped shadows as she crossed the room and exited the cabin, door shutting soundlessly behind her. Maka opened her book and began reading, flashlight peeking over the top of her book as she flipped the pages.

Several minutes later, Tsubaki returned, and as they exchanged a small smile, Maka slid out of bed and slipped into her sneakers, flashlight in hand.

As she tiptoed up the steps of the counselor house, trying to step around the creaks in the floorboards, she crossed the empty lounge, heading for the open doorway to the attic. Once she climbed the stairs, she gave herself time to be alone with the sacred stillness of this room.

As she edged forward, passing under the rafters that lined the triangular ceiling, a familiar sight met her eyes: a massive crescent moon glared down at her, peeking through the gaps in the rafters, smiling in a way that was unsettling but also comforting, somehow.

It was the moon that used to hang in the dining hall, she'd been told, before Death had decided to tone down all of camp's horror imagery a few years back. Attached to strings at the corners of the room, it loomed over her, and although there was no breeze, it was swaying slightly from side to side of its own accord. Tiny droplets of blood careened from the corners of its mouth, and she shivered, fully understanding the director's decision to replace it with a less nightmare-inducing variation.

She watched it for a time, transfixed, until finally, pulling her gaze from its powerful stare, her eyes settled onto the table in front of her.

On the table sat two boxes, cast in metal, one with an M and one with a W, both written in swirling calligraphy. Between them lay a scroll of parchment paper, some scattered pieces of regular paper and several ballpoint pens. Behind the parchment lay another poem that Maka assumed was nearly as old as camp itself:

_Before you make this careful choice,_  
_Be wary of how you use your voice._  
_It is not only those who are strong and loud  
_ _That would make their team's leadership proud._

_When choosing who you wish to lead,  
_ _Look also for those who do good deeds:_

_For a strong and quiet heart_  
_Will also play its part._  
_A love for all behind these gates  
_ _Also has its place._

_As you cast your vote for this hallowed role,  
_ _Take the time to consider the shape of their soul._

Smiling serenely, she glanced down at the very familiar piece of parchment in the table's center: In addition to Soul's name scrawled at the top, followed by her own name, the list had extended to a collection of 6 other names: Black*Star, unsurprisingly, had come right after her, followed by Ox, Liz, Kilik, Harvar and Jackie.

A good crew this year, she remarked, happy that she didn't have to compete with Kid anymore after he'd gotten captain the previous year.

She wrote two names down on two pieces of paper, taking the time to print each letter carefully, not only to be clear but to savor the time she spent beneath the crescent moon's knowing stare. When she was done, she put a piece of paper in each hand, hovered them above the boxes, and let the papers fall at the same time as she glanced up and stared at the moon one last time.

She could still feel its eyes on her as she walked slowly out of the room and down the creaky stairs, edging back into the real moonlight.

* * *

The next day, a drizzly day had caused, ironically, a drought in the number of kids that were coming to the lake, so they decided to close up shop in the early afternoon after nobody showed up all morning.

"You vote yet?" Soul asked as they were bringing in the kayaks.

"... I did," she said. "Have you?"

"Yup," he said, and as they put the first boat down inside the house, he grinned at her. "You ready to be captain?"

"I – please – they haven't even announced anything yet," she said agitatedly, knowing she looked as flustered as she was feeling. His grin remained firmly plastered on his face.

"Yeah, but you'll get it," he said. "I can tell how much you want it. Plus, you're like, typical captain material."

He really had a knack for backhanded compliments, and she told him so as they walked back through the doors to grab another kayak, sand squishing between their bare feet.

"Just callin' it as I see it," he said, back to being irritatingly self-satisfied.

Maka was forced back into a stupid, stupid paradox: hoping he was right, because yes, being captain _was_ what she wanted, and hoping he was wrong, because she didn't feel like looking at his dumb smug face if it happened.

"What if _you_ get it?" she said, and he looked back up at her, his eyes suddenly sharper, less passive than usual.

"Do you really think that's gonna happen?" he said. She wondered if she was imagining the tiny, hopeful inflection in his voice.

After they'd finished cleaning up, she could tell that Soul was loitering around, picking up random objects and looking at them with far too much interest.

"I think I'm gonna head up to the art centre," she said, lingering by the door. "You… wanna come?"

He looked up from his very fascinating rope. "Oh, uh… you go ahead."

She wasn't in the mood to analyze his bizarre behavior today, so she turned around, giving herself a break from those red eyes and that work ethic, in that order, and headed up the hill to catch up with some of her indoor activity compatriots.

It would appear that she wasn't alone in this; as she pushed open the door to the art centre, she found it absolutely bogged down with campers who were looking to escape the rain. The art room itself was in a state of barely-controlled chaos, Liz and Patty running around keeping the kids occupied while Kid frantically placed art supplies back into their original state in a perpetual catch-and-release feedback loop for the ages.

Today was apparently Witch Hat day, and as they finished their projects, the sea of children was occasionally punctuated by black tips, squirming their way through the crowd, out the art room doors and back out into the rain. She edged back into the hallway, not wanting to add to the already substantial body count, looking for quieter pastures.

Just down the hall, she discovered a not-insignificant number of campers gathered around Crona in a smaller side room, diligently scribbling away on parchment paper.

Through the glass door, she could see that Crona was also focused on writing, so she turned, intending to slink away unnoticed, when a heavy, knuckled hand landed on her shoulder.

"So _this_ is the creative writing room I've been hearing about!" Black*Star said, but since his speaking voice was on its default setting, Bellow, the writers all jumped, looking frantically toward the door. Maka stared back at the room, half shocked, half apologetic. Before she could say anything, he had already flung the door open and marched in.

"What are we writing today?" he said, looking over the shoulder of the nearest writer, who clutched their paper to their chest defensively and glared at him. He shrugged and walked around the room until he was standing beside Crona.

"Can I write too?!" he asked, and Crona looked up at Maka for a second, looking for some kind of cue, and she just shrugged, past the point of trying to understand Black*Star and his mysterious whims.

Crona handed Black*Star a sheet of paper without a word. He sat down happily and started to write, trying to make very loud conversation with Crona the whole time. After a couple of minutes of this, Maka rolled her eyes.

"You're bothering everyone," she finally said as Crona tried to politely respond to Black*Star's rambling account of his morning workout routine. "What are you writing, anyway?"

He showed her his paper with a cheeky grin. A meticulously drawn star with the word "black" integrated into its design took up the entire page. She'd never been less surprised about anything.

"Why don't you go somewhere else and let everybody do what they were doing before you came in here?" she said, gesturing to the room.

"I'm just trying out the creative writing thing!" he said defensively, paper rippling in his hand as he shook it. "Besides - I've heard that the creative writing counselor writes some badass–" He paused, looking at the kids guiltily. They stared back at him. "I mean uh, Really Good poetry, and I wanted to read it!"

Crona looked somewhere between flattered and anxious about this, but began to dig around in a bag, finally fishing out a notebook and flipping to one of the pages.

"Are you sure?" Crona asked cautiously.

"What do you mean, of course I'm sure," Black*Star said, impatiently taking the notebook out of Crona's hand.

The whole room watched him as he read, his expression unchanged and stoic from the moment he looked down at the paper.

Once his eyes drifted to the bottom of the page, he slid the notebook back along the table, got up, and walked towards the door listlessly, steps echoing and exaggerated as he opened the glass door and left the room.

Maka glanced at Crona, who looked as if they'd encountered this particular reaction before, and then took off after Black*Star, who had made his way all the way to the art centre door. Once outside, he broke into a run.

"Black*Star, what are you doing, what's wrong?!" Maka called after his retreating back.

His limbs started flying as he broke into a sprint, evidently attempting to outrun his emotions. Finally he yelled back, voice cracking:

" _I wish I'd never been born!"_

She stared after him incredulously, and behind her, she heard a sigh.

"I guess he didn't like it," Crona said. Maka turned around and shrugged sympathetically.

"You got through to Black*Star," she said. "He's probably felt sad about five times in his whole life. That's really impressive. You must write some powerful stuff."

Crona started to smile at this, but then, as they looked over Maka's shoulder, their smile seemed to falter.

"Hello, you two!" a voice rang out, and Maka turned to see nurse Medusa walking toward them.

"Hello!" Maka said, waving cheerfully. "How are you today, nurse Medusa?"

"I'm well, dear," she said, smiling kindly, but Maka noticed that when her eyes fell on Crona, they hardened slightly.

"Can I speak to you for a second, Crona?" she said, tone still light despite her expression.

"O-okay," they stammered, moving to follow her.

"You wouldn't mind watching over the creative writing campers for a few minutes, would you Maka?" Medusa said, putting an arm on Crona's back as she began to walk away. "It won't be long."

"No... problem..." she said, and she headed back to the creative writing room, happy to do Crona a favor, but she was left feeling uneasy, somehow. Like she was complicit in something she didn't want to be a part of.

When Crona returned several minutes later, they didn't say much, only giving her a quiet "thanks, you can go if you want," and opening their notebook again.

She headed for the door, but as they began to write, pencil etching slowly and methodically across the page, she watched for a moment before leaving the room.

Perhaps she was imagining the fearfulness lurking behind Crona's eyes.

* * *

As afternoon faded into evening, the rain let up and the sun came out just in time to set. Shades of pink were etched between the trees as the moon made its way into the sky.

Her unease from the afternoon carried into the evening as well, but once night fell, she realized there was a strange anticipation in the air that wasn't only in her head.

She'd started to sense it, even in sleep: something was happening. The way the trees were swaying, gently but expectantly, left a tingling feeling beneath her eyelids.

As such, it came as less of a surprise than it could have when a hand gripped her shoulder, and she jerked out of sleep to see Tsubaki with a finger to her lips, her slight smile barely visible in the dim light of the cabin.

Silently, they emerged from the cabin and followed the wordless trail of counselors winding its way through the darkness of the forest. Around and down the hill they went, careful to avoid the obstacles in their way as the trees grew more dank and overgrown with every step. She knew the way now, to an extent… but despite walking (well, _tripping_ ) along this path so many times, every year it seemed a little different, with slight bends and dips along the way that always took her by surprise.

Finally the familiar sight met her eyes: a crumbling amphitheater, leftover from the days when the arts program at camp had been its boon rather than its bane. She was sure it had been years since the old stage had been used for any official camp purpose.

Instead, it had become the perfect place for the reveal.

The whole structure had a destroyed, rather renegade nature about it, accentuated by the glowing skull-shaped torches that adorned its perimeter. Each lantern cast just enough light to make the run-down steps navigable. Following Tsubaki's lead, Maka tiptoed down the stairs and they both found their way to Black*Star and Soul, sliding in next to them along the chilly stone bench.

Soul was sitting right next to her, looking, for once, not completely bored by his surroundings. In fact, Maka thought as she plopped down next to him, he looked almost excited by what was going on. Not his expression – god forbid Soul Evans look genuinely excited about anything – but something was stirring in his eyes, she could sense it. There was something eager, _fascinated_ even, about the way he was looking at the stage.

Something she wouldn't hesitate to exploit.

"Hmm, I guess there _are_ some things that even a former camper doesn't know," she smirked, staring straight ahead and taking extra care to avoid his gaze. Beside her, his face split into a grin, but he didn't answer.

Once the auditorium had filled up and the crowd had started to glance around, an uncertain silence fell over the counselors. But before they could wait too long, a series of booms went off in quick succession, erupting one after another from a skeleton torch.

As each fireball exploded, the flame extinguished itself, bathing the stage in tiny shadows, one after the other. Between the blasts, she could hear a familiar, ongoing cackle from behind the stage as Stein worked his propane magic, flaunting his flagrant disregard for all camp fire codes.

She took a moment to wonder if Death had recruited this collection of administrative oddballs to camp, or if they'd all found their way here of their own accord.

Some of the counselors had screamed when this had started, but their entire row remained unphased, still as statues. Most of them had known it was coming, but she had to (begrudgingly) give Soul a little credit: he hadn't flinched either. Unless…

She watched as he and Black*Star exchanged a fist pound, grinning at each other. She'd been rolling her eyes so much lately that they'd started to feel like lead.

Before she could properly berate Black*Star for giving away Very Important Counselor Trade Secrets, the skull-noises abated and silence fell once more. The entire forest was covered in darkness, and everything except the moon overhead bathed in it, soaking it up like a sponge. It was just as impossible as ever to tear her gaze from the sky.

They sat there, the amphitheatre buzzing with energy. Maka sat with fists clenched at her sides, Tsubaki patting her back a little as Lord Death took the stage. With each step he took toward the center of the stage, Maka's heart thumped along with each of his footsteps.

She glanced over at Soul and Black*Star; Black*Star had assumed his normal confident posture, hands behind his ears, elbows jutting out to the point that the counselors sitting behind them were agitatedly craning their necks around them to see what was happening. Soul's expression was much more difficult to measure, and it distracted her for a second.

She could tell he was still keeping a mask up, ever the image of detachedness, but as she watched him more, she could see it: he wanted this too – maybe even as much as she did. It was strange to see him _care_ about something, and it intrigued her, a little bit. Made her wonder what other fondnesses he kept hidden away.

As Lord Death stepped behind the podium, a soft, blue glow came forth from the top of the podium, and the rest of the lights went out. Suddenly the only visible things were Death's mask, hanging disembodied in the air, and the soft outline of the moon above peeking through the trees.

"With these words, I will call the captains forth," Death said, his voice unusually serious compared with its normal cadence. "This position is an honor. It means you will give your best to every member of your team, and show leadership toward this year's three tasks your team is assigned. You will represent and protect your teams in the interest of friendship, teamwork, and tradition."

He gestured up to the sky. "By the light of the crescent moon, I present to you your captains."

The amphitheatre fell deathly silent, hypnotized by the eerie ghostly skull and its words. Maka sat perfectly still, hands still clenched, when all of a sudden, she sensed Soul's eyes hook on to her in the darkness.

It was a shock, the way it felt; like he was staring _into_ her, gaze intense, challenging her. In the final seconds before Death began to speak, she turned to look at him, too, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. This seemed to surprise him for a moment before he began to smile, almost knowingly. She puzzled over this as they gazed at each other, and she knew she couldn't be the first to look away.

"Our first captain's soul is… earnest," Death began, and Maka felt Tsubaki's hand twist into the back of her shirt, trying to pull her attention back to the front. But she couldn't turn from him, couldn't pull her gaze from six inches away, where this bane of her existence with his mysterious scars and fascinating hip bones was starting to smirk now, clearly enjoying her reaction. In front of them, Death's voice continued to ring forth from the stage.

"They work hard, they always try their best and they are always looking out for others. I know she will not disappoint the Meisters."

Maka was barely listening to what was going on, distracted as she was by the way Soul's eyes were still boring into hers, and she was trying to ignore Tsubaki's more frantic tapping against her back, which was growing more insistent by the second.

"Your team captain, Meister team–" Death said. There was a long pause, and as she looked at Soul's grinning face, his eyes seeming to blaze with amusement, she watched as Soul mouthed the words along with Death: "is Maka Albarn."

He must have known that she would break eye contact. She was more than a little annoyed that he was right, as the torches burst back into life and she tore her eyes from his, realizing what had just happened.

Tsubaki threw her arms around her, wrapping her in a big bear hug as Maka turned to face her, and as the shock and confusion left her, Maka started to smile, grinning from ear to ear as she slowly stepped out of the row to thunderous applause. There came an audible "oh, _come on!_ " from Black*Star behind her, which only made her smile wider. She stepped carefully down the crumbling steps, edging her way to the stage.

She stood before Death and nodded at him, the two of them shaking hands before she walked behind him and took her place to the left of Kid, who cast her the smallest congratulatory smile before reverting back to business mode.

But it was only halfway over. The lights cut off abruptly, plunging the theatre back into darkness as Death's mask came into the light once more. As the crowd quieted, she tried to seek out Soul's face again in the crowd, but it was far too dark. She'd wanted to see him squirm under the pressure. Instead, she settled for the muted happiness she felt as it sunk in that she'd done it, she was captain, and no matter who the opposing team's captain was, she was sure they'd be able to work together.

"The Weapon captain," Death began, "is not a newcomer to this place. They aren't always in the spotlight, but their soul is strong and sincere." Maka puzzled over this clue, going over all of the old counselors that were Weapons in her mind. "Their sarcastic nature sometimes _masks_ – for lack of a better word – (he chuckled at this, and everyone groaned a little) the true extent of their kindness, but they always have good intentions."

Maka's brow furrowed – if she didn't know better, _sarcastic_ almost sounded like… like…

In Black*Star's words: oh, _come_ _on_.

"Your Weapon team captain is… Soul Evans," Death said, and as the torches flew back to life, she saw a bunch of the weapons in the audience jump up and start clapping happily, clearly content with the choice. The captain-elect, however, looked utterly shocked by this announcement, staring around the auditorium in utter disbelief. It took him a couple seconds, after being hoisted up out of his seat by Black*Star, to make his way down to the bottom of the stage.

As their eyes settled on each other, a new level of tension shot through her. Once he walked up and Death congratulated him, he stood on Kid's other side, but not before glancing at her.

He couldn't hold it in; there was an absolutely _elated_ look on his face, _pure_ almost, and she let herself be happy for him for just one moment, understanding the feeling. Regardless, Kid stepping between them stopped that train of thought in its tracks, as she remembered that they would now officially be mortal enemies for the rest of the summer.

"As Captains of opposite teams, you will always be at odds," Kid said to them softly, so that only they could hear. The two of them grinned at each other despite themselves, since that was already very, very true.

"But you're in for a rude awakening," said Kid, and both of their faces fell. "As captains, you're _partners_ too. Being a captain is a lot of work. You're going to need each other."

The two of them grimaced, determined not to believe what Kid was saying, even though he'd actually been a captain and knew exactly what he was talking about.

Against the crumbling backdrop of stage, darkness and moon, they gripped hands, and as the audience of counselors cheered, and red eyes met green, the challenge behind them was evident:

May the best partner win.


	5. To Catch a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this is the chapter with the drinkin'. Enjoy~

After another hazardous walk back to the cabins and a short, fitful night of sleep, it still didn't feel real.

The next day was a blur of congratulations and smack talk - or both, whenever she happened to encounter Black*Star - but it was like Christmas, like she'd been given the gift she'd always wanted, the ultimate key to unlocking the rest of camp's secrets.

Actually, the real gift of the day had probably come from Death, who had declared an all-camp sleepover in the middle of the day and given all the counselors the night off. This gracious turn of events was _absolutely_ a payoff for subjecting them to a sleepless night the day before.

Regardless, after dinner a group of them piled into Kid's van and drove out into the tiny town that surrounded camp. The car was full of energy; since Kid's van happened to fit exactly seven people, the conversation was alive with discussions of the campers and the ridiculous things they'd done that day.

Well, except for Soul, who was sitting opposite Maka in the far back seat, pouting over not being able to take his motorcycle out, as he apparently normally did on nights off. Maka rolled her eyes.

As the discussions and venting about the kids began to dissolve, discussions of the previous night's events began to take shape.

"Heeeey, cheers to this year's _captains!_ " Black*Star yelled, producing a giant bottle of vodka from a brown bag at his feet and holding it above his head in celebration. Maka eyed the bag strangely, as it seemed to be bulging with several other glass protrusions.

"Where did you get all this liquor?" she said, aghast.

"I've got a few friends in town that wanted to help us celebrate our change in leadership," he winked, and Maka sighed.

"You've got enough for the whole staff, not just us," she said.

"Why Maka, how interesting of you to notice," he said in mock surprise. "Take a left here, Kid."

They took a turn into what essentially looked like a corn field; thick reeds grew on each side of the bumpy, thin road, occasionally gliding down the sides of the van as it passed by. Other than the van's high beams, it was pitch black, and as they descended into the darkness, the reeds became like tiny hands, reaching out to them as they edged further along the path and away from the road.

"Are you taking us somewhere to murder us?!" Liz exclaimed from the seat behind Kid, her knuckles white against the armrest in the van. Kid looked like he was about to ask the same question, though he seemed to have a better grasp on himself than Liz, as he instead asked, "Where exactly am I going?"

"We'll be there soon," Black*Star said cryptically. As soon as he said it, Maka caught a glimpse of a furling column of smoke in the trees ahead.

Finally, the warm light of a bonfire graced their faces, and they stepped out into the chilly forest air to greet the other counselors. The small army of booze Black*Star had brought along suddenly made sense.

Well, if nothing else, he certainly knew how to throw a party.

The group of them walked over to the fire, taking in the sight of counselors clinking bottles together, chomping down on marshmallows, and the bitter scent of one group off to the side smoking something illicit, no doubt. Black*Star immediately headed over to this group, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves. Maka opted for the marshmallow-cooking option, but also dug into Black*Star's mystery bag and pulled out a wine cooler.

They all sat beneath the trees, drinking things, swaying to the tune of the guitar someone had brought along, songs dwindling their way through the crowd and up into the sky, music interspersed with little bursts of laughter and smoke. She could even see Crona enjoying the music, smiling feebly at other counselors when they walked by.

As the party wore on, and the drinks started to pile up, the night spun itself into a blur of guitar and firelight, and as the lot of them swayed under the sky, she felt weightless, spinning beneath infinity, stars in her eyes.

As it turned out, stars in one's eyes also happened to be a side-effect of imbibing several wine coolers. After Black*Star had taken to dancing around the fire, no-longer-full bottle of Fireball in hand, she realized she needed to find a place to tap out for a minute.

She soon found herself stumbling around in the trees beyond the fire, searching for a log where she could sit and properly nurse her drink. She finally found one and sat down, fire and stars forming their own constellations as she watched the flames.

"Hey, Captain," someone said behind her. She already knew who it was. She knew he'd been leaning against the car for the past ten minutes. For all of the airs he put on at the lake, the fact that he was so party-shy was pretty comical… and also pretty endearing.

No, _not_ endearing, she thought, shaking her head. He was a thorn in her side, remember?

He sat down next to her, beer bottle in hand, and the two of them watched the flames for a moment in silence. Several other people had backed away from the fire at this point, as the risk of Black*Star's fire dance turning flammable continued to rise.

"Hey," she said, taking another sip of her drink to quell the strange fluttering that had begun in her chest.

"You got it," he said, straight-faced but smug now, still not looking at her.

"So did you," she said, not giving him a chance to gloat about it. There was a long pause.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "It was pretty funny, though."

"What was?"

"Well, a bunch of people came up and told me after the reveal that they voted for me cause they wanted to see both of us go at it all summer."

She looked over at him. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, I guess everyone can tell we've been uh… not so excited to be working together," he said with a thin smile, taking a sip of his drink.

"That's not really fair, though," she said. He shrugged.

"I mean, it _is_ gonna be fun watching the two of us go at it all summer," he said.

Now that he'd said it twice, all alternative meanings of _go at it_ were parading themselves through her mind's eye, leading it to places it shouldn't be, and she didn't answer for a minute until Soul broke the silence.

"That's why I've been thinking. About what Kid said."

She looked back at him, asking him the silent question. Her eyes took a minute to catch up with her head.

"We've gotta work together," he mumbled, eyes trained on the fire. "We're like… real partners now."

She took in his strained expression and a small laugh escaped her.

"Well don't look so miserable about it," she said, bumping her shoulder into his, taking advantage of the extra boost of bravery that wine coolers had instilled in her. "We'll be fine."

She decided she liked looking at the small smile he gave her as he reached over and clinked his bottle against hers with a bashful "yeah, whatever."

Okay, maybe he was a little endearing.

At this point, someone had finally managed to get the Fireball away from Black*Star. This was accompanied by a chorus of yelling and one attempt at jumping over the fire that landed him right in front of Soul and Maka, and he grinned at the two of them as he spun around in a circle.

"Hey Sooouulll, you can drive me home, right?" he said, wobbling on his feet.

"Sorry dude," Soul said, sipping at his drink. "Didn't bring the bike tonight, remember?"

"Yeah, but you could if you did, riiiiiight?" Black*Star said, plopping down onto the ground. "Since you bought that new helmet–"

Soul cleared his throat very loudly at this and looked like he was glaring at Black*Star for some reason.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Black*Star said with a very drunk thumbs-up, right before he collapsed backwards into the dirt.

Maka looked over at Soul, and his eyebrows were furrowed, still staring at Black*Star.

"You bought another helmet?" she asked. He mumbled something about road safety _or whatever,_ and got up, edging away from her. Too tipsy to worry about what his problem was, she shrugged, taking another sip of her wine.

With Black*Star conked out, the party quickly started to dwindle down, so eventually a very sober Kid came around and gathered them back into the van. When awakened, however, Black*Star somehow had even more energy than before, and Maka made a mental note to thank Kid tomorrow. They were all a bit wobbly – except Soul, actually – but with Black*Star serving as Kid's copilot, she had the feeling she'd be buying Kid a drink on the next night off.

She didn't remember much of the ride back, other than Black*Star trying to instigate a rousing round of Kum-Ba-Yah. It was ultimately a duet, since the only other person to join in was Patty.

They arrived back in the parking lot behind the stables and softly opened the car doors, preparing to sneak back to the cabins under the cover of darkness.

Unfortunately, her strappy sandals had always been unfit to combat the roots that rose up from the dirt, so as she tried to get out, she almost toppled out of the van.

She scrunched up her face, prepared to hit the ground, until a sudden arm shot out, wrapping itself around her waist so that she hung suspended in midair for a moment. A tipsy trapeze artist. That's what she felt like, until she realized _whose_ arm was around her waist, and then tipsy turned into flustered in an instant.

"Uh," she heard from behind her as they both froze. "I - uh - sorry, I just saw you were about to…" Through her shock, she could sense his dilemma, as he tried to decide whether keeping his offending arm in place or letting her fall to pine needle-strewn death was the preferable option.

"I'm fine," she gritted out, putting her hand against the open sliding door to steady herself. Her hand almost missed the door the first time, but he let go anyway. She was getting very used to the half-grumpy, half-amused mumble he sent her way as he clambered out behind her.

The rest of the group exited the car, front lights flashing into the darkness as it locked. Despite making it out of the van alive, walking wasn't getting any easier. She had tripped over several roots and almost nosedived into the ground several times before she felt an irritated tap on her shoulder.

"Need help?" he said, not looking at her, voice strained in an attempt to sound bored, but it just came out sounding concerned. Regardless, she accepted, tossing an arm over his shoulders as he tugged her forward.

"I'll meet you back there, Maka," Tsubaki said. Black*Star had fallen asleep again and she and Kid were trying to drag him out of the car with marginal success. Maka waved at them, still dizzy, still not fully understanding what was going on.

"Have a safe walk back, you two," Liz called out behind her. She wondered if she was imagining the implications lurking in that comment, but it made her head swim too much, so she settled for being dragged through the trees instead.

In the meantime, the forest was dark, the evening wildlife was out, and everything was suddenly very funny. She'd spent a good two minutes laughing to herself before remembering that she was currently under the care of Ebenezer Scrooge.

"Geez, you're such a lightweight," he muttered as they headed under the stable gates and onto the path toward the cabins.

"You're such a _pain_ ," she said, still laughing, and he actually chuckled along with her at this, though he was trying to keep his voice down.

"Guess alcohol makes you even more honest," he said, and she turned to bop him on the head at this, but when she did, a dull pain started to thud in her head, and she stopped, clutching her head, heart pounding in her ears.

He was in front of her immediately, all concern, every trace of mocking instantly forgotten.

"You okay?" he asked, voice hushed. "Should we go to the nurse instead?"

"No, it's okay," she said, shaking her head. "It's just… wine headache. Hitting early."

As if struck by sudden inspiration, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a water bottle. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

"I'm not gonna take your-" she started to say.

"I've got another one," he said, face serious, pressing it into her hands. "Seriously, take it - and finish it before you give it back to me."

She stared him in the face and took a grouchy but obedient sip. Satisfied, he gingerly turned for her to put an arm around him again.

"You're not gonna puke all over the cabin when you get back, are you?" He wrinkled his nose as they stumbled forward a few more steps.

"How about I just do it right here instead?" she said sweetly. "I'll aim for your shoes."

"Whatever makes you feel better," he mumbled. He was such a mother hen, she thought to herself, stifling a laugh.

"This bad boy persona's such a sham," she muttered to herself. "Even if he does have the back muscles to match."

"Hmm?" he said suddenly. "Did you say something?" He looked down at her. Everything suddenly became a lot less funny.

They weren't far from cabin 13, only a few meters, so to save herself the trouble of answering, she said, "I've got it from here, thanks for walking me back."

He nodded at her, and she walked to the door, starting to push it open soundlessly.

"Don't forget the water," he said.

"I won't," she mouthed at him, and headed into the cabin.

When she got inside, she swung her feet into bed and discovered that it had been short-sheeted. Apparently cabin 12 had paid them a visit.

Just outside, however, her escort watched the door for another moment, a small smile crossing his face.

"...Huh," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and turning on his heels, dead leaves crunching under his feet.

In the morning, as the girls rushed back into the cabin and started getting ready for the day, Tsubaki walked over and pointed at the half-full water bottle on Maka's bedside table, silently questioning the giant SOUL sticker pasted on the side.

Maka blanched and slid it under the bed. Tsubaki's innocent expression turned into a knowing grin that Maka did not like at all.

* * *

The next evening, Soul and Maka met outside the dining hall, and after a moment of water-bottle inquiry ("Did you finish it?" "Not yet…" "Okay, but don't give it back until you do"), the two of them slipped into the dining hall.

As soon as they entered, her eyes were fixed on the roof as crescent slits of moonlight pierced the ceiling, coming through the curtains and bathing the room in dim violet hues. Freckled lighting reflected off of their faces, illuminating them as they wound their way around tables and chairs to the back of the room.

Finally, in one of the back corners, they found what they were looking for: a hole in the side of the wall had a tiny stream of lamplight pouring through it, stretching into the darkness as a warm invitation.

_I'll leave it open for you_ , Kid had said, and sure enough, as Maka extended her finger and hooked it on the inside of the door, the wall started to creak slightly, and a panel swung open to reveal a narrow spiral staircase that led upwards.

They leaned into the doorway together, gazing as far up as the flickering lanterns would permit them. Once they had tugged the door shut, covering their tracks, they turned back towards the steps.

"A secret stairway, huh?" Soul said quietly. "That's pretty cool." But she could tell by the look on his face that he was absolutely intrigued by this, this and all of the other secrets that camp had hidden from them both for so long.

Hiding a smile, she gestured toward the staircase. "After you," she said.

They made their way up, floorboards creaking as they tiptoed through the winding, cavernous enclosure of the staircase. When they reached the top, they saw a door at the end of a long, narrow hallway, etched with wood carvings of crescent moons of all shapes and styles.

The two of them walked up almost reverently, quietly taking in the moment, sharing the silence. Finally, she grasped the handle and pushed forward, a little bit of dust pouring down from the top of the door as she did so. Flicking on the light switch, the two of them finally took in the legendary Captain's Room.

It was bigger than she'd imagined: the ceiling stretched for a good 20 feet before the wall sloped down, forming a diagonal against the floor. The room itself consisted only of a couple tables and chairs, as well as some scattered papers, pens and other assorted art supplies. On the walls hung old photographs and posters of skulls; some of the goofy faces she knew so well, and some with the older version of Death's mask that still gave her chills.

For all of her mental images of the cramped, hectic Captain's Room, it really was quite roomy. It would've been even more accessible, she thought, if not for the expanse of bookshelves lining three of the four walls in the room.

Magnetically drawn to books as she always was, she walked past Soul to investigate. Upon closer inspection, she discerned that in all of the cases sat folders in haphazardly varying colors of black and purple. She pulled out a folder at random, placed it on the table and dug into its contents. On the first page: "1965 WINNER: Meisters".

By this point, Soul had walked over to her, eyes on the folder as well. As they continued to flip the pages, the folder presented them with old photographs, old Captain's logs and other memorabilia from summers past.

Realizing what this meant, Maka looked back at all of the bookcases, at the hordes of camp history that was buried there. With a small pang of intrigue and sadness, she made a mental note to go searching for one specific folder later.

At the end of the table sat a large, simple manila folder with the word "TASKS" scrawled in red across its front. They'd both been ignoring it since they walked in, but as their eyes met, they both moved toward it excitedly, wondering what was in store for them to coordinate this particular summer.

As Maka opened the folder and they pulled out the page for the first task, they both read over the instructions with furrowed eyebrows.

"... How does he even come up with this stuff?" Soul asked.

* * *

The Meisters gathered in the gym, filtering in after they'd managed to get their campers settled in with their E.A.T. leaders.

In addition to already being nervous about relaying the information for their first task, Maka was trying not to think about the potential for disaster that every E.A.T. session had the potential to become with such hazardous supervision. Though, to be fair, Kim had been on her best behavior for the past couple of days - something else she didn't need to be thinking about right now.

Once everyone had trickled in, she looked over at Kid, who was sitting near the stage, and he gave her an encouraging nod. Despite how excited she was to be leading, she was thankful to have someone who had been through this before. She wondered how Soul was faring on the other side of camp.

"Okay, everybody," she said, waving her hands around. The room quieted down at her summons, and she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket.

"Here are the instructions for the first task," she said, unfolding the paper. "Basically, our job is to collect soles."

A confused silence stretched across the gym.

"Wait, soles? Like shoes?" Black*Star shouted from the back, and a titter of laughter went through the crowd.

"Yup," she sighed. "I was just as confused as you are, but I guess there've been a bunch of old shoes in the lost and found for several… years… and this was a good use for them."

The crowd stared back at her, and she couldn't blame them. Explaining the method to the director's madness when she didn't even understand it herself was proving to be a trying experience. She wondered how Kid had dealt with it his _whole life._

"Anyway, the goal is to find 99 soles and bring them to the counselor cabin. The first team to do that wins the task," she said.

"Well let's go then, what are we waiting for?!" Black*Star yelled, jumping off the floor.

"There's a catch," she said, and he stopped, leg poised in midair like a prized rooster. "The task doesn't start until tomorrow after breakfast, and it ends tomorrow after dinner. We have to find all of the soles when the kids are around, and if they see you with one, you have to give it to the other team."

Everyone groaned, and she could sympathize; chasing children around all day was demanding enough already. Normally the tasks were integrated in a way where the kids were either sleeping, or observing the task in some way without giving away its true purpose. She was also not looking forward to being stuck at the lake all day when there were soles to find, but she put this aside for the moment.

"That adds to the challenge!" she said with a laugh, and as everyone began to accept their fate, she added: "Come on! We can do this! Let's hunt those soles with everything we've got!"

The cheer that rose up from the crowd at her words left her more determined than ever.

They returned to the cabin to discover that the girls had put whipped cream in all of cabin 12's shoes. She was so excited for the next day that even helping Soul and Black*Star carry 20 pairs of shoes to the laundry room couldn't dampen her spirits.

* * *

From the moment breakfast ended, camp became a battleground. Every walkway, every building, every unnaturally large patch of pine needles became worthy of investigation, a proverbial egg to add to the basket.

Despite the campers' general obliviousness, there were some close calls throughout the morning. She'd seen Tsubaki scramble to hide a sole she'd found in a bush as Meme and Anya walked by, resorting to stuffing it up the back of her shirt and waving cheerfully, smiling a little too broadly. When they were gone, she had let out a breath and taken off toward the counselor lounge.

Maka had managed to gather her own little collection of soles and deposit them accordingly before she had to go down to the lake. Soul, on the other hand, had barely managed to find any at all, which had put him in a bit of a _mood_. Eager to redeem himself, he'd taken to skulking around the cabin very not-casually in order to catch up to her. Competitiveness activated, she had dashed into the lake house, where the true spoils ended up being.

After a quick sweep of the house, she came back with her little shoulder bag bulging. Soul stared at her in disbelief.

"How are you so good at seeing soles?" he said. "S'like you have a superpower or something." She grinned back at him.

Soon afterward, though, he was lying back on the dock, perfectly comfortable with his lifejacket-less, shirtless existence. Maka, of course, was the exact opposite of comfortable, suddenly a lot less gloaty and a lot more flustered.

It took one of the kids jumping off the dock and splashing water in her face to drag her out of the unintentional reverie she'd been entertaining.

"Eugh," she said, jumping up. "Hey, can you scoot over? Gimme some dry dock."

"Uhh." He opened one eye, looking up at her reluctantly. "Can't."

"...What?" she said.

"I, uh, can't. I'm really comfortable."

A moment of silence passed between then. She looked down at him. "You're being weird."

"I'm _relaxed_ ," he insisted, putting his arms behind his head.

"You're not," she retorted. "It looks like you're..." She stopped. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" he said innocently.

" _The sole you're hiding_ ," she said, whisper-yelling at him.

"I don't know what you're–" He was interrupted by Maka shoving her foot under his rib cage and flipping him over like a sullen, protesty pancake. In between the cracks was a once-white sole - now slightly green, after sitting in the water all morning - wedged beneath the dock.

They stared at each other for exactly one second before they both jumped into the water, all counselor responsibilities momentarily forgotten, and shot underneath the dock.

She came up underneath, sounds of water hitting the dock's sides echoing in her ears, and shook the water out of her eyes. But he was already there, victory beaming out of every inch of him as he clutched a slimy green sole in his hand. A confidence he didn't normally have, brought on by his sole-snatching victory, was practically oozing out of him.

  
[ ](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)   


But suddenly, she wasn't even thinking about that. All she could do was gawk.

In the under-dock darkness, he looked like a dream. Lines of white from the world outside bounced off his hair, making him look strangely angelic - which was jarring, considering the fire his eyes had become. He was watching her intently as they burned, and a thrill shot through her at how devious he looked, and how much she'd like to match it–

"I heard what you said, by the way," he said. He wasn't moving any closer, but it didn't matter. She was still spellbound, pinned down by that stare. It was like he was seeing through her again, drinking her in, and it set her nerve endings ablaze.

"What did I say?" she finally said, voice barely above a whisper. He did take a step toward her now, and she was wide-eyed and open, transfixed as he regarded her seriously, but the smallest traces of amusement were dancing behind his eyes now.

"The other night. Something about the way I act being a sham?" he said in mock curiosity. "... And something else."

She stilled, heart thudding in her chest, unable to look away. That _something else_ , she knew perfectly well, was a drunken commentary on the general musculature of his back.

Nothing would be funny ever again.

"Just wanted to let you know," he said conversationally, gazing down at her as her expression approached fish-out-of-water status - which was horribly ironic, considering the setting - and then he vanished back under the water, drifting out from under the dock, leaving her mentally gasping and blushing furiously.

When she had finally gathered her wits enough to clamber back onto the dock, he had already positioned his sunglasses back in place and was, thankfully, giving her a bit of space. Faced with mitigating the double-blow of defeat and humiliation she'd just experienced, she grabbed one of the kayaks and slid into it, paddling away from him as fast as she could, and spent the rest of the day trying to keep the kids from tipping her boat over.

Halfway through the afternoon, she remembered something else that had happened that night.

He'd bought another helmet. And hadn't wanted her to know. What was she supposed to make of that?

When her kayak bumped into the dock later that afternoon, he had a hand extended, ready to help pull her up.

"Didn't mean to make you feel weird," he said, hair covering his eyes. "I say shit I don't mean when I'm drunk, too."

She looked at him strangely, wondering what his angle was, but there was no trace of teasing in his expression, all soft apologies and bashful nodding. She almost corrected him, but the sheer embarrassment she would undoubtedly endure with something like "actually, I think about your lack of attire several times a day" tumbling out of her mouth was the ultimate deterrent.

So instead, she settled for a smile, and as they grabbed hands, she began to slowly accept that he was going to continue to surprise her.

At the very least, she wouldn't say no to ending up under the docks with him again.

At the end of the afternoon, the two of them raced up to the counselor lounge, since they were responsible for checking the sole count. As they burst through the doors, there was a small crowd gathered, staring at two large boxes. Each one held a collection of soles in all manner of shapes and forms.

Without stopping to say hello to anyone, they dashed up and inspected their spoils.

"Look about even," Soul remarked, looking between them.

"It'll be close," she agreed, walking around them to the other side. "Ready to count?"

The crowd waited as they pulled the soles out, one by one, boxes slowly emptying as they unloaded each sole onto the ground. As the numbers climbed into the 90s, Maka was nearly breathless, mentally counting before they got there… until…

"96, 97… 98." she looked down at her empty box, despair flooding her face, and she turned to face Soul, eyes wide, silently hoping that somehow they'd managed to…

He grinned at her, then at the crowd, and pulled one more sole out of the box.

"99," he said. As the Weapons erupted into cheers, he held up the final sole so that Maka could see it.

It was green, and covered in algae. He positively beamed at her as she scowled.


	6. Hold it Tight

In the days after the first task, life settled back down. It was hard to believe they were nearing the halfway point in the summer. Between their busy schedule of talent shows, shaving cream fights, and tie-dyeing, the idea of pranks had fallen off the girls' radar, but their disdain for the cabin 12 boys still remained.

The lake days had finally settled into their own rhythm as well, slow and fast at the same time. Soul hadn't brought up their dock encounter since it happened, but he had also adopted the (somehow even more annoying) habit of not taking off his shirt anymore.

She didn't know what to make of this, so she tried put it out of her mind. Predictably, he still wouldn't be caught dead in a life jacket.

Sundays were the slow days at camp; there were no normal activities, only the occasional big game or event, followed by, of course, the massive campfire in the evening. The kids were able to relax, and most of them took to writing letters or exploring. Often the counselors did the same.

This particular hazy Sunday had brought Maka to the barn, where Tsubaki was spending the day grooming the horses. Liz came to join them, and the three of them wandered through the stables, brushing manes, mucking stalls and doing whatever other odd jobs needed to be done.

It was something they often did on Sundays; sometimes a few campers came around wanting to help and they worked in relative silence, letting the value of a hard day's work seep into their bones. It was nice to get her blood pumping after so many lazy lake days, letting the hot, oppressive summer air hang on her shoulders as she worked.

Unfortunately, today's cleanup crew was just the three of them, and Tsubaki and Liz were using it to take their snooping to new heights.

"So…" Tsubaki said from the stall next to Maka's. "That water bottle's still under your bed."

As a response, Maka dug her pitchfork deeper into the hay.

"Are you… planning on giving that back anytime soon?" Tsubaki asked, fooling no one with her would-be nonchalance.

"I have to finish it first," Maka muttered, now moving muck at an increased speed, hoping it would somehow speed up this discussion.

"You haven't finished it?" Liz asked. Maka didn't ask how she knew about this. Her co-counselor's meddling was not a surprise.

"Nope."

"Is that because you're worried the girls will figure it out?" Tsubaki said, definitely teasing now.

"There's nothing to fig-" Maka said, then stopped, realizing from the amused silence on the other side of the wall that nobody was buying that. "They'll definitely say _something_ about it," she said instead.

The two of them were quiet - probably smiling all slyly again - so Maka continued her shoveling. As they worked, one of the barn cats - with black fur so dark it almost looked purple - wandered into the stall, meowing loudly. Maka reached out and scratched its ears for a minute until it started purring. Satisfied with its pets, the cat wandered into the adjacent stall and jumped up onto a horse's back, curling up into a ball. The horse let out a small nicker, seemingly unphased by its sudden passenger.

"... I'll give it back soon," Maka finally said. "I've gotta dump it out and refill it anyway. Not planning on drinking week-old water."

"If you want to hold onto it, I won't tell," Tsubaki said.

"Me either," Liz said. "But... I'll _extra_ not tell if you tell us what's going on with you two."

The two of them popped into the doorframe, expressions so earnest and innocent that Maka almost forgot she was being bribed. They had honed their craft well.

"I just…" she said, pulling on a pigtail. "I don't hate him as much as I thought, okay?"

"Mhm," Liz said leaning against the doorframe. "You guys looked pretty cozy at the party. _And_ the way he was looking at you at the end of the task the other day…"

"He won," Maka said dismissively. "He was gloating."

"He was _yearning_ ," Liz said, and Tsubaki nodded behind her. She stared at them. That was ridiculous. He'd put his shirt back on, hadn't he?

"Oh man, you've both got it so _bad_ ," Liz said, and just as Maka began to strongly reconsider her decision to enter this conversation, Tsubaki tugged on both of their sleeves, staring at the sky outside.

"Hey, let's get the horses in. I think it's going to storm," she said. Clouds were beginning to brew, black and ominous on the horizon.

After they frantically finished mucking the stalls, they walked out to the paddock to get the three horses. They managed to get two of the horses in, but as rumbling darkness continued to make its way across the sky, the other horses started making restless, jittery sounds in their stalls.

As the wind started to pick up, they dashed back out to the ring to retrieve the last horse. This one wasn't too spooked just yet - after a couple of minutes of very gentle walking with the lead rope, they managed to guide it back through the gate of the ring and into the barn as the clouds continued to barrel towards them.

They were making good progress, Maka thought, she and Liz walking slightly ahead and letting Tsubaki lead, speaking encouraging words to the horse as she walked at its side.

When they crossed over the threshold, a clap of thunder boomed through the barn, startling them. The horse, the most startled of them all, stepped backwards in fright, and as it regained its balance, Maka watched as one of the horse's front hooves came down and landed right on Tsubaki's foot.

"Tsu-!" Maka gasped as Tsubaki winced, biting her lip so that she didn't cry out.

"Hold on," Tsubaki said, tears springing to her eyes as she held on to the rope. "Don't make any sudden moves."

She leaned against the side of the wall, hurting but still focused. "He's upset, but he's not going to bolt. We need to keep him moving." She took another deep breath to steady herself.

"Here, come take the rope," she said to Maka. "Approach him from the side. Make sure he can see you. Be confident. And just walk him up and down the barn until he calms down a little."

Tsubaki's demeanor had already brought the horse back from bolting status, so Maka went up and, as per instructions, managed to get ahold of the lead rope, walk him up and down the barn and, with Tsubaki's approval, eventually return him to his stall.

Once the horse was settled in, she rushed back to Liz and Tsubaki, who had their arms strewn over each others' shoulders, waiting for Maka.

"Let's get you to the nurse," Liz said, and the three of them hobbled out into the storm towards the doctor's cabin.

About halfway through the walk, the rumbling thunder made good on its promise of bringing a storm. Huge droplets of rain began to pelt the ground as they edged forward, Tsubaki trying not to wince as her foot wavered behind them.

Finally they edged through the door of the nurse's cabin, rain and wind hammering on the windows as they crossed the covered porch. Maka extended her hand and knocked briskly, the three of them trudging in when they heard an enthusiastic "come in!" from inside.

As they opened the door to the waiting room, they were greeted by the sight of nurse Medusa waving them in happily.

"Oh dear, what happened here?" she asked, coming over to the three of them. She was as caring and professional as ever, but as she approached them, Maka felt her walls go up. She'd been hoping that Nygus would be here instead. She couldn't explain why, but there was something about this woman that wasn't sitting right with her anymore.

"A horse tried to play Twister with her foot," Liz offered as explanation, and Tsubaki nodded.

"Let's take a look," Medusa said, motioning for them to come into the examination room.

As they entered, they stumbled upon one other person in the room. His back was to them, spiky white hair protruding from the back of its head like it was trying to take flight.

When he turned around and their eyes met, their startled expressions were mirror images of one another. Liz made a noise not unlike a chuckle that made Maka want to kick her – which she might've done, if their injured friend hadn't been serving as a very convenient shield.

Once Tsubaki had gotten settled onto a bed and the examination began, Maka walked over to the bed Soul was sitting on and sat down next to him.

"Are you okay?" she said, checking him over, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" he said, eyeing her strangely. There was a pause.

"...You know you're at the nurse, right?" she said.

He laughed aloud. "Yeah, I know."

"So… why are you here?" she said, not understanding. His gaze was dry, and his response was drier.

"A couple of weeks ago some girl decked me in the face," he said, deadpan. She flushed. "Been coming to the nurse for some extra check-ups, making sure there wasn't any permanent damage."

His black eyes had subsided so long ago that she'd almost forgotten.

"Oh," she said, and Liz cleared her throat loudly, badly masking her laughter.

"It's starting to swell quite a bit," Medusa said to Tsubaki on the other side of the room, interrupting Maka's embarrassment. "It could be broken. Are you okay with going up to Stein's for an x-ray?" Tsubaki nodded at her.

"I'm just going to wrap it up for you for the walk," Medusa said. "I'll grab you some crutches, too. Be right back." She walked to another door leading into the house and shutting it behind her.

"You okay, Tsubaki?" Maka asked.

"I'm okay," she answered, though she was still wincing as she said it. "I could really use some ice, though." She nodded at the refrigerator behind her.

"Sure!" Maka said, jumping up and running up to open the freezer. She grabbed an ice tray, and started looking around for a ziploc bag to put it in.

"Maybe in here?" Soul said, pulling open the drawer to Medusa's desk and looking down into it. "Guess not," he said, starting to shut it, but as he did, a piece of paper dislodged itself, peeking out of the top of the drawer. Soul pulled it out and started to fold it up when he stopped.

"What's this…?" he said, voice falling to almost a whisper as he clutched the paper in his hands.

"What?" Maka said, coming over to him and peeking over his shoulder, and they read together:

_Dear Ms. Gorgon,_

_ARACHNOKIA_ ™ _thanks you for your interest and investment in helping us expand our network. We agree that Camp Crescent Moon could indeed be a strategic location to build our new cellular tower complex, as we currently offer very little cell service in the area._

_Our agents would like to stop by in the next few weeks to investigate the property, in order to evaluate its viability. We understand your request to keep our visit clandestine, and intend to honor it._

_As we have previously indicated, if you are able to convince the appropriate parties to part with the land, you will be rewarded handsomely. For now, we appreciate your utmost discretion_ –

Footsteps suddenly sounded on the other side of the door, and Soul and Maka jumped, tossing the letter back into the drawer and closing it just as Medusa re-entered the room.

"Here we are!" she said, brandishing two crutches and bringing them over to Tsubaki, helping her stand up. "Dr. Stein will be able to answer any more questions you have, okay?"

"Oh, uh," Maka said, realizing she was still clutching an ice tray in her hand. "Do you have a plastic bag somewhere for ice?"

"Sure, dear," Medusa said, crossing the room and pulling a plastic bag out of the closet next to the refrigerator. "It's funny you didn't think to look there first." Maka hoped she was imagining the nurse's eyes narrowing.

"Hah, yeah, you're right," Maka said nervously, trying her best not to look at Soul. "Thank you!" She dumped the ice in the bag and held onto it. "I'll just, uh, carry it while we walk up with Tsubaki…"

Maka tried not to look too eager to run out the door as they escorted Tsubaki out. She wanted to go straight to the director, but she could feel Medusa's eyes on them as they ambled up the hill. Once they finally made it to the top of the hill and Stein's house loomed over them, she turned back toward the nurse's cabin and let out a relieved sigh when there was no one standing there.

"Tsubaki… do you mind if we head out?" Maka asked, looking over at Soul pointedly. Liz smirked at the two of them.

Tsubaki nodded, unsuspecting. "No problem! Do you need to go too, Liz?"

"And have you become Stein's next research project?" Liz said, indignant. "He'll be trying to take more than just x-rays if I leave. I'm staying." She knocked on the door loudly, and the sound of a chair toppling over echoed through the thin wood. She looked up at Maka, who was still hesitating.

"Go," she said. "And give me good stories when you get back." She winked.

If Maka had the time to scoff, she would have, but as the squeaky wheels of Stein's chair announced his telltale approach, she and Soul had already taken off towards the staff cabin.

* * *

"I'm telling you kids, you have nothing to worry about!"

"But Medusa -" Maka said.

" _Nurse_ Medusa has been a valued part of our staff for many years now!" Lord Death said to her, still jovial, but definitely cautioning her now. "If anything were happening with Arachnokia, I'm sure she would have come straight to me about it!"

Maka turned to Soul for help, since she'd been doing literally all of the talking for the ten minutes they'd been in Death's office, desperately trying to explain what they'd seen. He shrugged back at her, shoes scuffing the floor. So much for backup.

"So she hasn't said anything to you about Arachnokia or their towers… or anything?" Maka said, starting to feel defeated.

"Nope!" the director said, carefree as ever, extending his trademark giant peace sign. "Trust me, I've got everything under control!"

Given the distinct _lack_ of control Death frequently possessed over every single aspect of camp, she had her doubts. The small sound Soul made behind her seemed to mirror her feelings.

"Anyway," Death continued. "I trust you're not spending too much time worrying about this. Don't forget that you both have captain duties as well."

Maka stood up straight at this, gaze suddenly intense. Soul walked up to stand next to her, slightly less slouchy than usual.

"We won't forget," he said from her side.

"And we won't let you down," she added, hands curling into fists.

Death said nothing, but nodded at both of them. Understanding that this was their cue to leave, they turned and headed out of his office, Maka filled with twice the resolve she'd arrived with. When they got outside the counselor cabin, she turned to Soul.

"We've got to figure out what she's up to," Maka said, and Soul nodded.

"She can't take camp from us," he said. "We won't let her."

Over the next few days, they tried to discover more about Arachnokia infiltration plans, but they were getting stuck at every turn. They didn't feel like they could approach any other admin after their conversation with the director, and they also couldn't spend too much time near the nurse's cabin for fear that Medusa would spot them. Their only other lead was all of those bizarre cell phone instances that they knew _could_ be connected, but they couldn't figure out how.

With so little to go on, and with no new developments to speak of, they slowly drifted back into their normal routine.

As they closed out another afternoon at the lake, Maka packed up the lake house and started to head up the hill to her cabin. She never bothered waiting for Soul anymore, since he always took his sweet time getting the house cleaned up and always declined her offers to walk back to the cabins together, so she waved at him without a word and took her leave.

When she got back to the cabin, Tsubaki looked at her, asked where her bag was, and with a heavy sigh, she turned back around and ran back down to the lake to retrieve it.

She made it down the hill quickly, and saw it immediately. It sat on the dock, the lake's waves pushing underneath it with a gentle rise and fall. It was a perfect summer afternoon, and she decided to lie on the grass for a minute, letting the sun warm her face.

After several minutes of lying there, a curious sound met her ears. To her right, where the grass by the lakeside gave way to the forest again, came the soft tinkling of a piano, floating on the breeze.

Curiosity piqued, she sat up, gazing at the forest. She'd never even _seen_ a piano at camp. The promise of unveiling more secrets called out to her, and there was no other option but to investigate.

Through the trees she wound, searching out the little hints of music that continued to grace her ears. It didn't take long for her to spot it: nestled in the trees was a tiny house, clearly only one room, with a large porch. Through the screens on the porch, she could see a cracked window on the right side that was filled with tinted glass.

She was utterly captivated, and it propelled her forward as she sought the magic that had pulled her there, soft melodies beckoning her like sirens. She edged closer as the sound swelled, making her balk for a moment. But it was impossible to turn back. She needed to know.

She tugged the screen door open with care, praying to any and all camp deities that the springs wouldn't screech. Luck was with her today, and she managed to slide through the door without setting off any trip wires. The main door to the house, she realized, was already slightly ajar and, heart thudding, she crouched down and gazed through the crack, green-eyed fascination putting itself on display as she tried to see who–

And within a second she was gone, plastered against the side of the door, breathing in slowly as realization dawned. He _had_ said he was a musician.

She should leave, she began to think. She should let him have his private melodies and those gentle crescendos that were building again, touching something strange and dark in her heart.

But morbid curiosity held her there - at least until this song was over, she told herself halfheartedly - and she basked in the sound, trying to convince herself that she'd stayed for the piano and not for the player.

She was a terrible liar.

The song started to slow, and as it drifted into silence, she closed her eyes, letting her heartbeat keep time with the echoes of that ebbing final chord.

There was one more beat, a beautiful tension that hung on the whispers of the song, and then silence.

"Y'know," Soul said suddenly from inside the room, voice hoarse and vulnerable in a way she'd never heard before. "S'rude not to applaud after a performance."

She bolted upright, staring around the forest, desperately searching for _anyone else_ he could be talking to, but no, it was just her, alone and exposed. Before she she could even think about running, he had already crossed the room and she was greeted by a sly red eye regarding her through the crack in the door.

"Uh," she said, jumping to her feet and brushing off her shorts as he opened the door, grin plastered across his face. "Sorry, I was just–"

"In the neighborhood?" he asked, his smile widening as he leaned against the door. She still managed to glare at him through her curtain of mortification.

"I–"

"Here, just… come in," he said, motioning for her to enter. She looked at him suspiciously as he turned away and walked back to the piano bench.

"... Really?" she said, and why did _her_ voice sound like that? All breathless and wavering, like it was struggling to escape her lungs.

"Yeah," he said as he patted the seat next to him.

She hovered at the door. She should go, should head back to the cabin, should apologize and see herself out, but she was drawn to him, to this music, and she wasn't sure if she _could_ leave. So she didn't.

  
[ ](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)   


When she sat down, still feeling out of sorts and awkward, he looked down at her.

"I'm actually glad you're here," he said, letting his hands settle back onto the keys. "Will you listen? I… uh. I can't figure out the end."

"Wait," she said, neck snapping up to look at him. "You _wrote_ that song from before?"

"Yeah. I–" he hesitated for a moment, perhaps reluctant to say too much, but then he smiled again. "I've… written a song every summer I've been here."

"Really? Even when you were a kid?" she asked, curious but still quiet.

"Yeah. I… had help, back then," he said. "Anyway… will you listen?" His self-conscious foot shuffling looked good – adorable, even – on him, but she nodded, putting him out of his misery.

As soon as he began to play, her nervousness reverted back to that strange captivation she'd felt before, like the axis of her world tilted on this one room, and she realized something as soon as he began to play.

The song was a story.

It started off hesitant, hopeful almost, but quickly moved into something bolder, almost angry. His hands were fighting each other, stealing each other's energy. They passed between melody and harmony with a jolty bait-and-switch, not giving the other any time to rest. But slowly, the melody settled into something more natural, more soothing, and she realized that she'd heard the same melody in the song he'd been playing before, a familiar refrain with little tweaks and changes.

She watched, hypnotized by nimble hands as he played her his song of this place they both loved, recollections of lazy afternoons and soft pine needles and white-hot candlelight laid bare in a whirlwind of harmonies.

There was something else, too. The more he played, the more she caught hints of it: she felt like he was trying to tell her something, and as she listened, she heard a softness, a seldom-comfortable strength that was inherently _his_ , twisted with streaks of vulnerability.

As his hands trickled down the piano, those tinkling dark notes dredged up something inside of her. It wasn't only nostalgia for this place she was feeling, but for a part of _herself_ she didn't realize she'd been missing.

But as soon as she'd almost grasped it, he started to slow down, bringing the song to a point of closure long before she was ready, fingertips wandering to their conclusion. After the final chord, they sat there in silence.

"It's not done yet," he gently reminded her, that fascinating hoarseness back in his voice.

She smiled, looking down at the piano, still reeling from the significance of what he'd shown her. "Neither is the summer."

"I–" he stopped, and she turned to watch with fascination as a flush crawled up his neck.

"Go on," she said, mouth suddenly very dry.

"There's a way I want it to end, but…" He swallowed hard, and seeing him this uncomfortable would have been so _satisfying_ if she weren't suddenly very warm herself, heart lodging itself in her throat as she caught on to implications that couldn't possibly… be...

"But what," she whispered, and suddenly, newfound courage bristling under her skin, she dragged her eyes up to meet his.

He was already gazing down at her, unsure, waiting - _yearning_ , maybe, she thought suddenly - and then her eyes were gliding down his face, coming to rest at slightly parted lips, and her hands were clutching at the sides of the piano bench as she leaned in–

"Heeeeeeeeeeeey _Fools!_ " the loudspeaker back at the lake exploded, and the two of them jumped about a foot, any lingering thoughts promptly driven from her brain due to the mental fortitude required to tolerate that awful _voice_. "If you aren't at dinner, make your way there! There'll be teaaaaaa!"

"Oh no, what time is it?" she said, shaking her head to clear it and looking around for a clock.

"Dinnertime, I'd guess," he said, but his teasing lacked its normal confidence, eyes downcast and dazed in the aftermath of what had just happened.

They raced back to the dining hall, and other than Tsubaki's very approving stare, nobody noticed as she glided into her seat a couple of minutes late.

When she returned from dinner, however, there was a surprise waiting for her. As she entered, her eyes fell on a piece of purple cardboard sitting on her bed. She picked it up, eyes suddenly very prickly for some reason, and read on the back in a familiar lazy scrawl: _Sorry it took so long_.

Suddenly filled with purpose, she reached under her bed, chugged the rest of the newly-filled water bottle she'd placed back under it this morning, and took off to the other side of camp, a purple piece of her own clutched between her fingers.


	7. Til I Awaken

With cardboard exchanged and water bottles returned, the next few days became a blur of confusion and sidelong glances. The banter was the same, constant teasing and sass, but every movement he made around her was cautious, delicate. An inquisitive tiptoe around the moment they'd almost shared.

She wasn't any better. The spell his music had cast was still there, the echoes of his song still resonating, whispering hints of unfinished stories. But they were both waiting at the edge of something, staring down the drop-off. Caught unprepared by the intensity of what had happened, what he'd shown her.

If nothing else, she thought she now knew why he'd bought another helmet.

To complicate things further, the second task was already imminent. Exciting as this was, it was also _stressful_ , and it moved her focus away from warm, enticing melodies and onto the cold, hard process of plotting and strategy. In the days before the second task, she spent endless nights scribbling notes and re-framing her choices, settled in among the bookcases of the Captain's Room.

After one particularly busy day at the lake, she sat at the dinner table, head cradled between her hands, eyes full of lead.

"Are you okay, Maka?" Meme had asked, interrupting the slow descent Maka's face was making toward the surface of the table.

"Huh?" She looked up to find the entire cabin staring at her with concern. "Oh– I'm fine, just…" She let her shoulders slump. "A little tired."

"I know what you need!" Tsugumi said after a moment, hopping up so quickly that Soul and Black*Star's table stopped their conversations to watch her.

She came back with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. They were infamous among the campers for being the most delicious dessert at camp – though Soul, with his well-known preference for Sludge, was quick to disagree.

Maka smiled at Tsugumi and picked a cookie up, nibbling at it.

"You're always taking care of us," Anya piped up from Maka's other side. "We can take care of you too, you know."

She pulled them both into a hug, eyes misting, all of their faces mulling into a watery blur.

"We are the luckiest," Tsubaki said to Maka. She nodded, blinking the tears back. They had all of the spunk and sweetness she remembered having at that age.

* * *

Reinvigorated by love and chocolate chip cookies, Maka had run up to the Captain's Room after dinner, intent on returning to her planning.

She was just getting organized, sheets of paper neatly stacked, when the door swung open. She shut her folder with a snap, preventing him from catching a glimpse of her master plan.

"You've been in here every time I've come in," Soul said disbelievingly as he dumped his stuff onto the other end of the table. He gazed down at her, accusatory. "Are you even sleeping?"

"Of course I'm sleeping," she said irritably, taking the folder and flipping it over for extra-secret security coverage.

"Oh yeah?" he said. "What time did you leave last night?"

"... Around two," she said uneasily. "But Tsubaki–"

"I know she's happy to cover for you, but give yourself a break," he said, walking over to her with his arms crossed. "You're planning yourself crazy."

"Have you planned _anything_?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, tapping his head with a grin. "S'all up here." She grimaced at him.

"I just want to make sure I've done my best," she said, eyes on the table. "That I've done everything I can."

"You _have_ ," he said. "Your team is… lucky to have you." She could hear that uncomfortable lilt in his voice – the one that only appeared when he was being sincere. She'd started to hear it more and more often lately.

Not that she'd seen any decrease in the snark.

"Anyway, I'm just here to remind you to give that nerd-brain some rest eventually," he said, pulling his bag back up onto his shoulder. He never stuck around long. She tried not to assume that it was for the same reason that she'd been throwing herself into planning.

"Okay, I'll leave earlier tonight," she grumbled, returning to her work as he started towards the door. She looked up and saw a paper bag still sitting on the table, rolled up at the top.

"Hey, Soul, you forgot your bag," she called after him as the door shut.

"Nah, I didn't," he said through the door, and she heard his footsteps ambling down the stairs.

Curious, she walked over and opened the paper bag. Inside was a handful of chocolate chip cookies – smuggled out of the dining hall after dinner, no doubt.

She smiled to herself as she pulled out another cookie and took a bite, returning to her work.

 _We can take care of you too, you know,_ Anya had said. It made Maka wonder if Soul was trying to say the same thing.

* * *

The next few days brought rain, and lots of it. Maka found herself spending days at a time away from the lake. As a result, she ended up spending a lot of time visiting her Art Center friends, helping Liz and Patty manage the chaos, and enjoying watching Crona's ever-growing collection of budding writers.

She was so happy to spend time in that room. Crona gained more confidence every day. The kids were quickly starting to turn to them for advice and writing inspiration, and Maka could see the delight in Crona's face when they did.

But between Art Center sessions, the pressure was on, and she found herself spending just as much time in the Captain's Room, diligently scribbling out her plans.

Finally, the day of the second task dawned, the morning sun casting tree-shadows across the shuffling feet of campers and counselors on their way to breakfast. The birds were chirping, dewy dawn spiderwebs twinkling in the trees. All was peaceful and bright.

Until they reached the dining hall, at least.

"Hey Soul, you guys ready to get pummeled in Tug of War today?!" Black*Star screeched, ignoring the fact that the only other participant in his conversation was sitting two feet from him.

Maka sipped at her coffee, wishing she'd managed to get a little more caffeine in her system before being subjected to Black*Star's antics.

"Wait," Tsugumi piped up from beside Maka. "How does he know which team he'll be on? I thought you guys didn't find out until right before it starts."

Black*Star jumped before Maka swiveled around and glared at him.

"Ha!" Black*Star yelled, exploding out of his chair and pointing at Tsugumi. "You'd be right, tiny munchkin, if Soul and I hadn't already decided we'd be on different teams!"

He turned to Soul. "You're still excited to get wrecked by the Great Black*Star today, right?!"

"Thrilled," Soul said, sipping at his drink as well, looking thoroughly bored. When his eyes met Maka's, however, she thought she saw a glimmer of enjoyment in them.

Tsugumi nodded, accepting this explanation, and their secret remained unexposed – no thanks to Black*Star's colossal mouth, she thought.

The second task was, in general, much easier to keep secret, since the kids already knew about it to a degree. Its official title was "Link in the Chain", and while the origin of this title was another mystery, Maka had always thought it had something to do with the way they all combined their collective strengths, using their combined energy and power to be stronger than their enemy.

It was, as Black*Star had so eloquently stated, a giant game of tug-of-war, and since the kids bore witness to the event, the second task had always been in the spotlight. Incidentally, this task was worth the same amount, points-wise, but it was worth twice the bragging rights.

That's why she'd planned so extensively. Taken all fifty people on her team and placed them in a specific order. With her knowledge of everyone's strengths and weaknesses, she'd put together a setup that she was confident in.

It wasn't a regular game of tug-of-war, either. Counselors had long tried to figure out ways to throw each other off - as long as they stayed on opposite sides of their line _, any_ form of distractionwas permitted, and as they wrapped up with breakfast, the counselors' outfits were bulging with items intended for such a purpose.

As they headed down to the field on the western side of camp, she pulled Black*Star aside in the midst of the trek.

"You remember the plan, right?" she said, all crossed arms and shifty eyes, trying not to look at him too closely in case anyone was watching.

"Of course, Maka," he said, rolling his eyes at her as he cracked his knuckles. She watched him put his hands behind his head, perfect confidence emanating from him as he walked away.

"Like I'd forget about my chance to be the star."

* * *

She could hear the applause before they even cleared the woods. Campers and administrators alike had formed a massive semicircle around the field, and in front of them a long, muddy-brown rope stretched across the grass, crossing two massive red lines in the center.

The instant they walked out onto the field, adrenaline coursed through her, battle mode activating without a second thought. She looked at Black*Star out of the corner of her eye and the two of them turned and bumped fists, competitive grins spreading across their faces as they sized up their competition.

The two teams moved forward and got ready, assuming their positions in a nonchalant-enough way that the kids wouldn't pick up on it, while Maka headed to the very front of her line.

It wasn't customary for captains to be at the front, but as she lifted her eyes, they fell on her bemused co-captain, who had evidently also decided to head up his line.

"I'm surprised," he said as he leaned down and grabbed the rope, tossing it up and down in his hand. "I thought you would've put Black*Star in front."

She smiled innocently, behind-the-scenes schemes playing themselves out in her mind.

"Well," she said, as she bent down and picked the rope up as well, the audience's cheers echoing in her ears. "It's important to compromise."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but before he could answer, Death glided toward them in that creepy-yet-enthusiastic way of his, holding one of those popping noisemakers, prepared to douse them in confetti. The bizarre contrast between the God of Death and party favors somehow captured him perfectly.

"Ready?" he said, looking between them.

"Ready," they said together. At the pop of the gun, confetti exploded all around them, and Maka braced herself for the mayhem that was about to ensue.

And ensue it did. Before the confetti had even fully cleared, the air above them suddenly became a highway for water balloons, stuffed animals and other miscellaneous items that were soft enough to pass a Lord Death post-contest audit.

To be fair, he didn't usually have many restrictions on what got thrown, she realized as a frisbee went flying past her head.

She should've asked Soul to bring his other helmet, she thought slyly.

She had no idea how anyone else was able to take their hands off the rope, given the amount of strength she was forced to exert to keep the rope steady. The little flag wavered back and forth between the red lines, its wobbly course making little headway as the two sides hung on through the chaos.

It made everything worse that, centered on this turbulent backdrop of yelling and projectiles, a red-eyed gaze burned into her bones, challenging her as he always did.

This continued for several minutes, water balloon debris and mud splattering across her face as the onslaught continued. She could still hear Black*Star from the back of the line, exercising his well-developed vocal chords to expel encouragements and beratements at his teammates.

But slowly, surely, the flag started to make its way closer and closer to her team's side, and as she sensed the other team's resolve start to give slightly, she held her hand up, three fingers extended above her head.

"You know what to do!" she yelled out as she counted down, and as her fingers formed a fist, the entire Meister team let go of the rope as one unit, taking a step back.

Out of the corner of her eye, a head of blue hair materialized at her side, wind whipping past him as he sped forward from the back of the line. In front of her, the Weapons were falling backwards, the force of their own strength sending them careening to the earth.

The red flag soared toward the Weapons' side, almost crossing it, before Maka yelled out again and everyone grabbed the rope. Black*Star, now at the very front, steadied himself and gave the rope a massive heave, the rest of the team joining in.

His tug sent the Weapons sprawling forward this time, their balance compromised as they landed on mud and balloons and plushies with a squelch, and Maka peeked around Black*Star's broad shoulders to watch the little red flag slide definitively across the Meister team's line.

The ear-splitting "YAHOOOOO!" that ripped through the air echoed her feelings exactly.

As they jumped up and down, celebrating their victory, Soul peeled himself off the ground and walked over to shake her hand, caked mud between his fingers. The two of them gripped hands congenially enough, but that look in his eyes was still there – something burning, fervent.

She let the twisting knots in her stomach push her closer to the edge.

* * *

With the second task complete, she permitted herself a couple of vices. The first, admittedly, she'd been letting herself have since the beginning of the summer. She feasted her eyes upon a very-welcome resurgence of shirtlessness on the dock. The sweltering mid-summer weather had its perks, though the little amused glances she kept getting from her very-knowing counterpart were not as enjoyable.

The other vice, however, she'd been holding out for. One afternoon, she found herself back in the Captain's Room, pulling out a specific folder and clutching it between her fingers.

It was purple and worn, and decades' worth of handling had her carrying it with extra care. As she opened the cover, her hands shook a little, heavy with the knowledge of what she was about to unveil.

Inside were photographs galore, piles and piles of images stuffed between the folder's pockets. This folder was heavier than the other ones she had explored, which was understandable.

Her father _had_ always had a penchant for taking too many pictures.

She went through everything, taking her time, stepping back into the past. In many of the photos, two smiling, carefree faces smiled up at her, familiar but also achingly foreign because... had she ever seen them this happy? She could read it in the way her parents' arms were casually strewn around each other's shoulders, the now-distant echoes of their affection plainly visible on their faces.

As she read through all of the awards and thank-you letters from campers and fellow counselors, she realized, heart heavy, that they'd definitely been two captains to remember.

She started to rifle through the rest of the photos, trying to fight whatever emotions were threatening to bubble to the surface as she sifted through this piece of ancient history that marked the beginning of her parents' love story. Just as she arrived at another stack of photos, the door swung open.

She jumped and slammed the folder shut, shock coming off of her in waves, which Soul immediately noticed, giving her a wary glance as his eyes traveled to the folder on the table.

"Doing more research?" he said, hovering at the door, probably trying to read why she had suddenly adopted the deer-in-headlights routine.

"S-sort of," she said, leaning back against the folder.

"...Want me to go?" he asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"No, of course not! This is your room too," she muttered, looking down at the folder again, and after another second, she realized: she didn't need to hide this from him. Why would she?

He paused one more moment before shrugging at her and dumping his bag on the table. She remembered the pull of his music, and felt it guiding her forward again.

"Here, actually," she said. "Come see what I found." She picked up the pile of photos again. Soul came around the table and they looked down at a series of familiar faces.

A young Sid stared up at them, showing off goofy muscles in a tank top that was almost-identical to the one he wore these days. They laughed out loud at one series of pictures from the second task that year, featuring Stein pelting Spirit with water balloons and culminating in a final frame of Spirit sputtering, soaked and grouchy, Stein smiling cheerfully behind him.

The final picture revealed Spirit and her mother again, hands intertwined, holding up a giant crescent moon trophy together. The stars in their eyes as they gazed at each other served as a haunting complement. She saw Soul's eyes widen out of the corner of her eye.

"That your mom?" he asked, but the surety in his voice revealed that it really wasn't a question at all.

"It is," she said.

"They were captains together." Another non-question.

"Mhm."

"Huh."

He looked at the photo for another second, then got up and walked away from her. She had just enough time to wonder whether she'd be getting any more 'questions' from him before he pulled a folder out of the bookshelf. It was much further down, and he certainly didn't have to look very hard to find it - meaning he'd absolutely brought it out before.

He walked back to the table and opened it up. The shock of white hair billowing about in the top photo answered her non-question. She asked it anyway.

"Your brother?"

He nodded, and as she looked down at the photo, it came together for her. Why he'd cared so much about being captain. Why he'd been quietly hoping for it to happen, disguised in those layers of cool-guy aloofness. Who'd helped him write those songs all of those years ago.

"I didn't know," she said, looking up at him.

His soft gaze sent gentle waves coursing through her. "Neither did I," he said.

"So," he said after a moment of silence, pointing down at the photo of her parents. "Who won?"

"Mama, of course," she said, crossing her arms. "I don't think Papa even cared, though. He… I think it was enough just to meet her. It started everything for them."

"Your dad's a funny one," Soul agreed. "I can't say I'm surprised that he... fell for his partner, though..."

He let this line trail off, the belated realization of what exactly he'd just said sinking into the room. Maka froze, still looking down at the photo, registering the change in the way he was suddenly holding himself, knuckles tense as they gripped the side of the table. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as she turned slowly to meet his eyes.

Half a summer's worth of stares and questions and simmering _almosts_ had flipped the switch, rendering his gaze electric. His expression was intense, wide-open in its honesty. He was asking for something, asking permission for the chance to wrap her in a new melody, one that she wanted so desperately to hear.

Sidelong glances were a thing of the past, and his gaze was trained on her, breathlessly waiting, hoping, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't the only one _yearning_ now.

"Well," she said, but it came out as a whisper. She twisted her hand into his shirt, pulling him to her, but he was already halfway there, stumbling forward slightly, savoring the leap before the fall.

She watched him watch her lips as she said, "Like father, like daughter, I guess."

Just like in their first meeting, they collided. The soft warmth of his lips was an entrancing contrast to the fierceness with which he slid his hands down her sides. Her hands moved from his shirt to wrap around the back of his neck, tugging him down to her with a raw insistence. A small, almost desperate sound escaped his throat that set her on fire, all hesitation long abandoned as she pulled him closer, lips reclaiming his.

Angled against him, she could almost hear the next part of the song as it wound around them. She was drinking it in after being denied for so long, every movement he made hitting her in waves. The tune his hands were playing along her hips was sweet but sultry, promising more, and _oh_ was she listening.

They danced to it, everything new and chaotic but also so familiar, and she was connected to it, to the understanding that they were writing not only their own story, but also the story of this place. She reveled in the duality of it all, in the seductiveness that summer held for them, warm suns and thunderstorms taking up residence in her heart.

When they finally broke apart, gasping slightly, shy smiles gracing their faces, the loudspeaker crackled its greeting again – not a moment too soon – announcing its normal message of dinner, insults and empty promises.

They raced downstairs to make it into the dining hall before any kids arrived, but as they reached the landing, she leaned up and kissed him again, relishing the heat that flared back into his cheeks.

She smirked at his dazed expression as she pulled him through the door.

* * *

The following days were filled with a new kind of warmth, one of sneaking kisses in the lake house, of brushing hands on the dock, of quiet afternoon concerts with heads leaning attentively on shoulders. The heady summer air left her giddy, and braver than usual, seeking out pecks at the corner of his mouth while he feigned a grouchy acceptance of her affection. His hands trickled down the piano as new melodies unfurled themselves from his fingertips.

She was unfamiliar with this type of bliss, the sweet and easy way they had fallen in step with one another after all the chaos at the beginning.

Things were going so well that she'd almost forgotten the one shadow lurking around the otherwise-magical summer they were leading.

It was a Sunday, and she was in the cabin, helping Tsubaki braid the girls' hair before dinner, when there was a loud knock at the door.

"Come in!" the girls said, giggling.

As the door screeched open, Soul stuck his head in, eyes searching her out, unease radiating out of him.

"Hey, uh – can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, giving her a loaded look. The giggling in the room intensified, accompanied by a chorus of "oooooh!". Tsubaki managed a half-hearted "hey c'mon girls, settle down," but she was giggling right along with the worst of them.

Sensing the urgency in his stance, she ignored the girls and moved to follow him out the door. As they walked down the stairs, several eager faces appeared at the cabin windows, watching them greedily from behind the panes.

"What's up?" she said, walking him down the path and away from the voracious gossipy appetites of preteen girls.

"Okay, uh," he said when they were far enough away from the cabin. He ran a hand through his hair, anxious. "I just... I just saw Medusa doing something really weird."

She gazed up at him warily. "What did you see?"

"Okay, so, the kids talked Black*Star into trying to do those James Bond rolls off the roof again."

They exchanged an exasperated look.

"Yeah, exactly," he said. "His shoulder got all thrown out of whack, and I wasn't gonna let him go to Medusa, so we walked up to Stein's instead. And we got to the door and knocked, but he didn't show up. I really didn't wanna go back to the nurse's cabin, and Black*Star was being fucking _annoying_ , yelling about how he didn't need some dumb doctor, so I told him to just go back down the hill and I'd see if I could figure out where Stein was."

He paused, scratching his head, and she nodded at him encouragingly, eyebrows furrowed.

"I went around the back, and before I even made it back around to the back porch, I could tell she was there. With him. And she was being all… _slithery,_ " he said, shuddering.

She almost laughed, but stopped herself at the look on his face. "What do you mean?" she asked, shaking her head.

"I mean like…" He crouched down and started walking around her. He was instantly predatory, moving up too close behind her.

"You could help move this place into the future, Stein," he said, putting on an affectation of Medusa's voice that made a chill run through her.

"You've seen how all of those children don't respect Death's old ways," he continued, slinking in front of her and running his hand along her cheek, his performance just a little too accurate for comfort. "They've all been using their phones – you've seen it. You're too brilliant to be dealing in the obsolete."

He dropped his hand, ending the charade. A beat of silence passed as they grappled with the implications.

"She's gotten into wherever they keep those phones," Maka said. "I know it. She's planting them."

He nodded. "And she's not trying to get through to Death. She's trying to get Stein to do the dirty work for her."

Silence descended as they stared at each other, out of options, out of inspiration, nearly out of higher-ups to talk to. In order to fight the despondency she could feel coming over her, she'd taken a step back towards the cabins, and funnily enough, Soul had done the same.

"What are you–?" he said.

"I'm getting Kid involved," she said, turning around. "He's better at planning this stuff than I am, and I feel like we need some new blood."

"That's funny," he said. "I was just gonna go get Black*Star."

She wrinkled her nose at this, but heaved out a sigh, resigning herself.

He laughed, walked up and casually took her hand, fingers intertwining with hers as he pulled her down the path. "Hey, sometimes you gotta bring in the big guns. Makes things more unpredictable."

She thought about how much the unpredictable had guided her summer thus far, and let his warmth guide her through the shadows.


	8. As if to Tell Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains ~explicit sexual content~ ;D

Bringing on the rest of the gang was a relatively easy process.

Nobody had been overly surprised at the discovery that Medusa was in cahoots with your friendly neighborhood spider-cell providers, especially not Black*Star, who had immediately proclaimed "this is why I don't trust doctors!" upon hearing the news. All attempts to explain the distinction between doctors and nurses fell, unsurprisingly, on deaf ears.

With only two weeks left in the summer – a thought she wasn't keen to dwell on – came the start of several end-of-camp traditions. With the kids gone for the day on a trip to the coast, the seven of them had signed up to stay behind, intent on uncovering potential clues about Medusa's plans.

They had launched into action that morning, but despite Liz and Patty's impressive lock-picking skills, the nurse's and doctor's cabins had stayed firmly shut.

They also tried the director's office, but that quickly became its own adventure. Halfway through jimmying the locks on the director's door, a giant replica of Death's hand had burst out of a panel above the door and swung down at them. They barely made it out of the way as it chopped through the air, forcing them all to dodge its massive fingers as they scrambled away from murder-by-glove.

Officially discouraged from breaking and entering, they accepted that they weren't finding any more information today.

Instead, they decided to take full advantage of a day at camp sans administrators.

They took out the speedboat.

There weren't really supposed to be seven of them in the boat – Maka had mentioned this and everyone had gleefully talked over it – but she still appreciated spending time with them, enjoying one of the few times they were all able to be together in one place this summer.

As they sped away from the dock, rocky shores gave way to glistening waves in the midday sun. They spent the afternoon waterskiing, tubing and relaxing, the water warm and welcoming by this point in the summer. After an hour or so, they turned off the motor, letting the boat rock aimlessly, speakers blasting as they let the current tug them wherever it pleased.

It was a perfect, blissful afternoon, with one small problem.

Soul was still shirtless.

This really shouldn't faze her anymore, she thought. It was completely unfair to think that on a hot day, under the sun, in the _middle of the damn lake_ , he'd be wearing anything else. She knew this.

And yet, since that fateful day on the dock when his torso had pulled its first sneak-attack, she hadn't really been that close to him when he was shirtless. Hadn't kissed him shirtless. Hadn't had the chance to trace her hands down his back shirtless...

She shook her head. She was torturing herself.

In a boat, with nowhere to go, surrounded by six of her closest friends, was not the ideal place to be distracted by this non-problem. But for the past twenty minutes, she'd been eyeing the sheen of sweat that glistened across his collarbone. It was calling to her; _taunting_ her. To be honest, it sort of made her want to lick it off–

 _O-kay!_ she thought, stopping that errant thought before it took her down even more troublesome roads.

"Enjoying the view?" Liz asked, sliding into the seat beside her and sipping on her lemonade. Maka glared at her through her sunglasses and her guilt.

"Yeah, it's great," she said, pointing to the mountains in the distance and pretending the burn on her face was sun-induced. Liz voiced her disbelief with a loud slurp.

"C'mon, no need to hide it at this point," Liz said. "Everyone already know-"

Maka shook her head furiously at her, because _no,_ everyone did _not_ know about the inter-captain canoodling that had occurred over the past couple of weeks. Liz and Tsubaki may have been observant (read: _nosy_ ) enough to pick up on it, but she and Soul had agreed that informing Black*Star about this turn of events was inviting a tempest into their lives that they weren't prepared for. So they'd agreed on keeping things a secret – for the greater good.

And so she found herself in the eye of the storm as Black*Star turned to Liz and asked "Everyone already knows what?"

Liz surveyed Soul and Maka's eye-daggers with an aloofness that would've likely made Soul very impressed under normal circumstances.

"Mmmnothing," she finally said, taking pity on them, but the twinkle in Black*Star's eye foretold that the damage had been done.

"Ohohoho, Souuul!" Black*Star said, sliding into the seat next to Soul, enthusiastic elbows jutting into Soul's sides. "What have you been keeping from Uncle Black*Star?"

Soul looked up – from somewhere around _her_ _stomach_ , she realized belatedly – and stared at him silently in response. She found herself wondering about the authenticity of his 'sunburn' as well.

Undeterred, Black*Star plowed onward. "We're co-counselors, dude! We're supposed to tell each other everything! Why wouldn't you tell me?" He lowered his voice to a not-whisper. "Are you not lasting long enough or someth–"

" _Oh_ my god!" Soul exploded, jabbing his own elbow into Black*Star's knee. Black*Star, mysteriously impervious to pain as always, just laughed and jumped away, running to the back of the boat, shouting out an "ohhhhh, I _see!_ " and shooting Maka a knowing grin as he went.

"You're both the same," he announced as he clambered back onto the wooden panel at the very back of the boat. "Don't blame _me_ just because _you_ haven't talked about how much you both want to _get it in_."

They'd both started lunging for him before he could finish the sentence, but before they could get there, he cackled at them and launched himself into a perfect backflip, landing noisily in the water and leaving them standing in the floodgates his hurricane-like presence had opened.

It dawned on Maka that natural disasters were generally unavoidable.

The rest of a reasonably awkward afternoon still passed quickly, and they made it back to the shore about an hour before the kids were due home for dinner.

As they clambered out of the boat and Maka started to tie it up to the dock, Soul lingered behind as the rest of the group headed down the dock and up the hill.

"Hey, um," he said, faux-sunburn resurfacing as he leaned against the side of the boat. "This might sound weird, after what Black*Star said, but… would you… meet me back at the lake tonight?"

She looked up at him in shock, hand slipping on the knot she was tying. He threw out his hands, pushing away the implications.

"Oh – uh – no, not like that, I'm not asking for – I don't want – well, not that I don't _want_ – but–" He choked on his words and gazed down at her with saucer-eyes. Still a little shocked, she tilted her head to the side, waiting for him.

He paused, and took a deep breath. "I just… I want to show you something. Something cool." He smiled, and it ebbed away at his chagrin. "Been wanting to show you for awhile, actually. But like, no pressure or whatever," he added, hand jumping back into his hair.

Knot finally in place, she stood and walked over to him, surveying him with hands on her hips. She looked at him, sizing him up, but she could read him like a book, and it only took a skim to find honorable intentions lurking between the lines.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, and the swell of surprise that lit up his face made her cheeks warm.

"What time?"

* * *

It was late, and she was _running_ late, an unanticipated cabin bonding session leaving the girls falling asleep much later than usual. She tried to strike a balance between running and tiptoeing through the forest down to the lake.

Once she reached the edge of the trees, she slowed down, breathing in the world around her. As she looked up, the stars glimmered expectantly in the sky, as if they'd been waiting for this, for the warm and quiet eve that hummed through the trees. Summer's blanket had wrapped itself around her, calming the curfew-induced (and _maybe_ Soul-induced) nervousness that had left her leaving the cabin in jitters.

She heard him before she saw him, his dim outline pulling something towards the water's edge.

"Hey Muscles, can you give me a hand with this?" Soul said, dragging behind him what she eventually realized was a canoe, inky-black against the water.

"Are… we taking this out?" she said, skeptical.

"Yyyeeeesss," he said, drawing the word out like he knew exactly what was coming.

Nope, no hands would be given. It was bad enough that he'd gotten her out of the cabin in the middle of the night; now he was trying to turn her into a thief.

"I am not getting in that _contraband_ canoe and you can't make me," she said, folding her arms.

"It's not contraband if _you work here_ ," he said, exasperated, giving up on his heaving. "You get in this canoe every day. It's basically got your name on it."

He gestured to the canoe in Vanna White style, running his hand under, presumably, her invisible name and smiling lazily.

"Besides," he said. "How else am I gonna get you in trouble? It's been my dream to get you out of my hair since we got here."

"Hm," she sniffed. "Maybe you wouldn't have so much trouble if you actually _got a haircut_." But he was too adorable. She was losing, and he knew it. He stayed perfectly still, still in salesman mode, hand wavering in front of the canoe as he waited for her.

"…Fine," she said, just resigning herself to her evening of delinquency, when suddenly she started to grin. Soul looked highly disconcerted.

"What?" he said, looking around behind him suspiciously.

"I'll come along," she said, smile widening as she pulled off her backpack and started to unzip it. "On one condition." He frowned at her as she unearthed two folded life vests from the biggest pocket and tossed them into the canoe with a flourish.

He stared at them for a minute, perhaps considering whether uncool life vests outweighed super cool canoe dates. "Fiiiine," he said – more to himself than to her, it seemed. She smirked.

"Okay, come _on_ ," he said, crossing over to her in a few strides and tugging her over to the canoe by the hand. She smiled down at their entwined hands for a minute, appreciating how nice they looked, squished together like that.

"Are you really gonna make me do this myself?" he grunted at her. She realized that he'd been trying for a one-handed push on the canoe and wasn't making much headway. She reluctantly slid her hand out of his and they began pushing on the metal casing together, sliding it into the water with little bursts of momentum. Finally the water took over and the canoe slid smoothly into the shallows.

Maka jumped in, bracing herself against the sides before settling down onto one of the wooden seats. Soul was having a harder time of it, despite his efforts to make everything he did look completely flawless.

Finally, after sort of tumbling into the body of the canoe more than anything else, he settled into a wooden seat in the back. As Soul steered, Maka paddled forward, and the two of them glided off into the unknown.

A couple of minutes later, Soul quietly said, "Oh hey, uhh, we might also be… walking a little."

"…What?" Maka said, turning around to face him. "How far are we _going_ , Soul?"

He squinted off into the distance, shielding his eyes and making a big show of it. "Welllll," he said, licking his finger and holding it up to the wind. She rolled her eyes and he rolled them with her.

"...It's not far," he said, back to being nervously sincere, all of a sudden. "Promise."

She shrugged and turned around, but a smile crept across her face when put her back to him. Sticking her hand out and letting her fingertips glide on the surface of the water, she wondered about the warmth in her cheeks, and the pulse in her fingers, and about this sweet and sarcastic and secretly genuine person that she was letting take the lead.

After a few more minutes, the moon's reflection on the lake became a muted glow on the sand, and the front of the canoe made its berth onto land. Both of them jumped out and pulled the canoe up the shore, sand sticking to her toes through her sandals.

Once they got the canoe up on land, she turned to look at him as he pointed up a hill that rose above them, ending in a rocky peak at the top.

"Still not far," he said again, and she looked past him, up to the stars and their twinkling haze, and let them lead her onward.

They started up a path, across jagged boulders and those ever-present pine needles, thin trees jutting up from between the rocks and blocking her view of the hill ahead. After a summer of lazing around, it was a tougher walk than she'd anticipated. Both of them were breathing a little more heavily than normal as they approached the final part of the climb, hands digging into the gaps in the rock as they hoisted themselves up the steep incline. With the taut arm muscles and interesting, erm, _posterior_ that were parading themselves in front of her, swim trunks accenting things nicely, she allowed herself to – in Liz's words – enjoy the view.

Finally, as they cleared the climb and Soul turned around to help pull her up, he grinned down at her.

"Okay, we're here," he said, taking her hand and leading her up the last gentle swell of rock that gave way to… a very familiar view.

She barely held in a gasp as the horizon slowly revealed itself, the inky, star-spattered sky giving way to a series of familiar lights that flickered on the ground across the water.

"It's…" she said, galaxies reflecting in her eyes as she tightened her grip on his hand. "It's camp."

Together they were flies on the mountainside wall, and they could see it all. The flickering torches at the front gate, imposing and regal. The warm lights in the cabins. The dining hall's purple glow. If she really tried, she could even make out flashlights passing between the trees. At the top of the hill was Stein's cabin. It was impossible to see the strange stitch marks crisscrossing its roof, but she could still picture them there, keeping watch over their summer home.

And soaring above it all, gleaming with watchful energy and light, was the moon, keeper of the magic that took place beneath its crescent likeness. If she stared into its face, she could imagine its guileful gaze, grinning back at her.

"How did you find this place?" she breathed, eyes trained on the scene before her. She caught a glimpse of the tranquil smile that appeared beside her.

"Wes brought me up here," he said. "A long time ago."

They said nothing for a time, watching the trees, the stars, the place to which their hearts were anchored. The place they'd soon be leaving. She leaned against him, as she had so many times in the music room, and let the crickets play them a concert of their own.

"Thanks for showing me this," she said, and he curled an arm around her, his heartbeat a metronome.

"I knew you'd like it," he said. "You like all of that 'camp's so magical and historically significant!' mumbo jumbo anyw-HEY," he said, shielding himself against the hand that had come crashing down on his head.

"Guh," he said, rubbing his head. "Well, this isn't the first time I've been hurt up here."

"What do you mean?" she asked. He looked down at her for a second, then took her hand again, leading her to the side of the cliff.

"Careful," he said. "But look down."

From this angle, she could see another rock about ten feet beneath the cliff. Rather than the round-topped peak they were standing on, this rock was jagged, with a razor-sharp point at its end, a gray blade against the black canvas of the world below.

"I fell off," he said simply.

"Of _that_?" she asked, pointing.

"Nope," he said. "I fell off of this." He pointed to the ground at their feet. " _That_ -" He pointed to the sharp rock below. "Caught me."

"What?!" she exclaimed, taking an instinctive step back from the ledge.

"Yeah," he said, drawing a diagonal line across his front with his finger. "Remember?"

She was glad he couldn't see her flush in the darkness; there was a _very_ slim chance that she'd forget _any_ aspect of his torso anytime soon. "I... remember," she said slowly.

"The end of the rock sliced me up, slowed me down, and then I hit a landing just underneath it," he said bitterly. "Everyone said it was a miracle." He shrugged. "I guess it must've been. Stein told me when he was stitching me up that they call that rock the Demon's Sword."

"It must not be the first time someone's gotten hurt by it," she said softly, hand seeking out his again.

"Yeah," he said, squeezing her fingers and looking out across the lake again. "Anyway, it was a long time ago. And it wasn't like I couldn't come back. Can't stay away from this view."

She smiled at him as they both walked over to the view and sat back down.

"Besides," he added slyly, peeking at her from the side of his eye. "The scar's not so bad. It gave _someone_ an excuse to look at my muscl– GAH, jeez, _put that book away!"_

* * *

Once they could finally accept parting with the view, they clambered down the rock with a final glance at the landscape. After a few minutes of downhill hiking they found themselves back in the canoe, ripples racing alongside their boat as they cast off into the darkness once more.

The evening on the mountain left her aching. It was a bittersweet beauty; the view, hands entwined, the closeness of their hearts as they gazed down on their safe haven.

As she stared ahead, purple night sky stretching to endless cosmos, she felt, so keenly, the magic this summer had brought her. She felt Soul's presence behind her, steadfast and honest and currently still seething about post-chop head wounds, and she marveled at the way things had come together.

But there wasn't much time left. She gazed up at the moon, climbing higher into the sky with every moment, following its conventional arch around the sundial to the end of this night, the almost-end of this summer. As she reached out again, hand gliding across the surface of the water, she thought of what she really wanted; of what she wanted to do most with the remnants of a perfect summer night.

Unfortunately, the answer came to her quickly, and it had her squeezing her legs together, face on fire.

She wanted to lick the sweat off his collarbone.

She could see the dock at camp already – it was, as Soul had said, _not far_ – and before she had the chance to talk herself out of it, she turned around to face him, knees bumping against the side of the canoe.

He was already watching her, eyes two pinpoints of fire in the darkness.

"What's up?" he asked, but she recognized that gravelly tenor in his voice, the same hoarseness that had plagued his voice at the piano.

She traced his outline with her eyes, his paddle stilling in the water as he gazed at her. His panicky afternoon admission of "not that I don't _want_ –" echoed through her bones, fueling the fire, giving her courage.

She had no idea how to initiate something like this; she was relying only on instinct, on the tingling nerves across her limbs as she pushed herself up to standing, canoe wobbling slightly as she did. She registered the look of surprise on his face as she stepped carefully through the canoe and for a second, it looked like his eyes had flown down to her legs as she stepped over the bar in the middle of the canoe.

When she stepped past the middle, the boat lurched dangerously, and she realized belatedly that if they wanted to do this – as with many other things this summer – he'd have to meet her in the middle.

He made his way towards her carefully, arms tensing in interesting ways as he gripped the sides. He was moving so painstakingly _slowly_ that it made her want to throw herself at him, canoe physics be damned.

Closing the distance between them now, her hands caught the sides of the canoe, cool metal resting in her palms as she leaned towards him, canoe still wavering back and forth. With a smile, he leaned up, breathing in that final bit of space between them.

He kissed her hard, their lips melding together, and a thousand suns spread through her as she kissed him back, head reeling, fire shooting down her arms as she held herself steady.

"Here – uh, Maka," he said after a long moment, blinking dazedly as he pulled away. "If you… don't mind, maybe we could–" He tugged on her life jacket a little as he started to sit down, then brought himself all the way down, tugging her with him.

She wavered dangerously, knees wobbling, but she caught on to his _very good idea_ and leaned over him, legs straddling his. His hands found her hips as she leaned forward, hands by his shoulders, her breath hitching as she took in the light in his eyes, liquid and content as he gazed up at her.

It wasn't until she leaned down to kiss him again that she ran into a problem. As her eyes fluttered shut, she was quickly met with a barrier. Both of their life jackets, protruding and bulbous as they were, were keeping her from reaching his face.

She froze and stared down at him, hating everything, cheeks reddening as she realized what exactly she was going to have to ask for.

"...Take off your life jacket," she mumbled, peeking through her bangs at him.

"What?" he asked, sitting up halfway as he tried to hear her. Face burning, she stuttered her way through her request again.

"Take... off... your life jacket," she said again, eyes flitting anywhere but at the stupid epiphany she could see dawning in his face.

A campfire came alive in his eyes.

"... What?" he said again, but she knew he'd heard her this time as he sat up further, his hands toying with the bottoms of her shorts as their life jackets bumped together.

"You heard me," she grumbled, and he started laughing. It was a full-on belly laugh, and the fabric of his life jacket made zipping sounds as it slid against hers. She glared at him from her perch on his lap.

"You know I can't do that, Maka," he finally said, still trying to control his laughter. "That wouldn't be very safe."

He leaned up as close to her as he could before the jackets prevented him from going further. "Unless…" he began, watching her face from inches away. "...you wanted to take it off for me."

He was bluffing, trying to poke at something she'd never do, and she was so flustered, so frustrated in every sense of the word that, just to spite him, she reached down and unclipped the top clip from his jacket.

It was Soul Evans' turn to approach fish-out-of-water status.

But his shock quickly dissolved into something else, something muted but _burning_ that she could feel emanating from him as she opened the other clips on his jacket one by one. It slid down the back of his arms with a slow and welcome farewell, and she slid her own jacket off in record time before she cast it aside, leaning back up to him, skin alight.

There was just enough time to hear him mutter "you totally have a thing for life jackets, don't you?" before her mouth was slanting over his again, hands sliding into his hair as he held himself up, arms extending behind him.

They kissed like they had no time left and all of the time in the world, warm lips reverently pressing to cheeks and necks and foreheads. Eventually Soul's arms gave out and they toppled backwards into the bed of the canoe. Maka took a moment to savor the feeling of his torso as she slid his hands up his chest, passing more gently over the jagged scar with its recently unveiled story. He grinned and pulled her up to him, his lips claiming hers again as he threaded their fingers together.

Before long, as the heat in her cheeks was building and her hips were starting to grind into his, one very important thought managed to dredge itself up in her mind. The hazy realization that _backs had still not been touched_ sent a wave of heat coursing through her as she rolled off of him, back bumping into the side of the canoe.

She had every intention of inching back over to him, hooking her arms through his and running an eager hand down his back until, before she could blink, he was moving over her, placing his arm on the side of the canoe as he moved to kiss her again–

And then, thanks to nature's double blight known as mass plus gravity, the canoe lurched sideways, knocked off-balance by physical impossibility of accommodating two people plastered to its metal siding. The two of them went cascading into the water, along with backpacks, paddles and two recently abandoned life jackets.

Maka's feet touched the sandy bottom of the lake when she popped out of the water next to the canoe. Confused, she looked around and registered, shaking water out of her eyes, that they were a mere twenty feet from the dock back at camp.

Next to her, Soul sputtered himself out of the water. His hair was dripping; it hung down in his face, jellyfish-like. It sunk back into its natural habitat as he squatted in the water, pouting.

"This is why," Maka said, still recovering from Soul's notoriously bad timing as well. " _We always wear a life jacket_." An unintelligible grumble met her ears beneath the waves.

As they dragged the canoe onto land, toting wet backpacks and paddles along with them, there was still a pounding in her chest – and in other places also, she thought with another flush. She glanced at the grass on the other side of the dock and eyed it with interest.

When they had finally deposited all of their baggage on the side of the lake, that energy was back, still crackling between them, and she reached for his hand, eyes sweeping over him once before turning away. She could feel his eyes on her as she tugged him over to the place she'd spotted.

As their feet touched grass, she turned and pulled him down, letting the ground cushion her back as he slid over her and kissed her again, a welcome weight pressing her into the earth.

Soft kisses quickly moved into more urgent ones, and Maka stared up at Soul, letting pure _need_ overshadow any traces of her embarrassment as she hooked her hands into her bikini bottoms and slid them down. She drank in his expression, watching his eyes widen as she took his hand and slowly, deliberately, moved it between her legs.

"Uhh, Maka, are you su–" He fell silent as she breathed an emphatic " _yes_ " and he nodded. She watched his face through hooded eyes as he slid a finger inside.

She gasped softly, focused on that one spot as she welcomed him in with a sigh. She heard him swallow, a shaky breath escaping him as he slowly slid out, then in again. She watched a grin split his face as she gasped again, more urgently this time.

"Don't look so – ugh – smug about it," she gritted out, and the fire in his eyes burned hotter than ever. Another finger soon slid in along with the first, and all complaints about his too-satisfied face dissolved as she basked in her own warm satisfaction.

He did look smug, to be sure, but there was something almost... awestruck in his expression, wide-open adoration mixed in with that burning, burning desire in his eyes that she could understand perfectly well.

She started to lift her leg, still riding against his hand, and he caught hold of it, hooking it over his shoulder with another grin. As he placed a tentative kiss to the side of her knee, the memory of an ancient grumbled observation – _"well, your legs are longer"_ – shot through her, and suddenly the heat pooling in her stomach was too much.

"S-Soul," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "Do you have a – hmm – a condom?"

He stopped outright, looking down at her in disbelief. When she held his gaze, eyelashes fluttering as he eased his fingers out, he blinked. "I… do."

She didn't understand why he looked so embarrassed about this. He walked over to his backpack, retrieved something and came back to her with a tiny plastic bag, one foil package shining inside. She willed herself not to get distracted by the bulge she'd just noticed in his swim trunks when he sat down beside her again.

"Wasn't even gonna bring it," he mumbled, shoulders shifting uncomfortably. "Didn't wanna be all sleazy, bringing one, but then Black*Star chucked this at me–"

"Black*Star made you bring that?!" she said shrilly. She glanced down at the bag again. " _And waterproofed it?_ " He nodded, grimacing.

"Well," she said after a moment. "I'll have to thank him later." She took the bag from him and unzipped it, watching his eyes widen as she took it out, but then she paused. "Um, well, you should probably–"

"...Kay," he said, breathless, eyes flicking from the package to her face. He took it from her and undid the drawstring on his shorts, and watching the awkward way he stepped out of his swimsuit was the most riveting thing she'd seen in weeks. With a rip of foil and a careful, precise roll of latex, he was hovering above her, waiting.

"Y-you good?" he asked again. "Because it's totally cool if you don't..."

As he trailed off, she took in his face, at the silver light illuminating his hair, his cheeks, that earnest expression (those _shoulders_ , she thought, and pushed that out of her mind), and could honestly say there was nothing she wanted more.

"Do _you_ want to?" she asked.

An almost immediate "uh, yes," tumbled out of his mouth. "... _Please_ ," he added afterwards, potentially to be polite, but with the way he was holding her gaze, it came out sounding like a prayer.

She regarded him seriously and, feeling like an absolute vixen as she did so, reached down and cupped him with her hand, hiding a smile as he let out a gasp.

"Me too," she whispered, and as he arched down to kiss her again, she drew him close to her. As their lips melded together, she lifted her hips, easing him in.

He made a sound against her lips that had her panting again, and as she opened up for him, her hands came up instinctively to grab onto his sides, pulling him in deeper.

The chuckle that escaped him quickly turned to a groan, his hands clenching as they splayed in the grass at her sides. Everything was _hot_ ; his lips at her neck, that aching, delicious heat building inside of her, the muscles in his arms as he moved above her.

Suddenly she caught sight of a familiar sheen of sweat stretching across his chest. It was back to taunt her, reflecting off him, highlighting the parts of him she'd been so quick to admire. It was only fitting that, as he finally slid all the way in, she let out a sigh and hauled herself up, clenching around him again as she slowly, deliberately ran her tongue along his collarbone.

"Ugh– Maka–" he grunted as she settled back into the grass, tasting salt and lakewater on him. "I'm not gonna last–"

"S'ok with me," she mumbled, gaze heady, hoisting her hips up and earning another groan out of him.

"Jesus," he said, panting, running a hand through his hair as he moved over her again. "Glad you've found _another_ way to drive me crazy–" She made a face at him and pulled at his sides again, asking for more.

As he started to move, arms tensing as he thrust into her, she rolled her hips, and suddenly that ephemeral thrill began take over her, the knowledge that this place, this night, it was theirs, all joined together in an anthem. Tonight they basked in a song of crickets and waves and sighs, melodies of summer romance weaving through them like silk.

It was a tune spun by the moon, light and shadows dancing on their faces as they moved together.

The word _partners_ echoed somewhere in her brain as she hooked her hands around him, letting eager hands finally, _finally_ drift down his back, mapping out familiar dips and curves with her fingers.

"M-Maka, I'm gonna–" he choked out, eyes scrunching shut.

"Go for it," she whispered, and as she did, he shuddered, gasping as he thrust into her one more time, and then collapsed, lying against her, heart thudding against hers. She let out a deep breath and smiled, still tracing gentle patterns in his back.

"Ugh," he muttered into her shoulder. "Fuck."

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"I… you didn't…" he said, pushing up and looking at her, but then, taking in her expression, he paused. "Oh," he said, and something grew hooded in his face, mischievous. She let out a sigh as he gently slid out and dealt with his latex situation, grumbling about how actually, that plastic bag was useful as hell and _why did Black*Star know about this_ as he zipped it shut.

"Alright, we should probably get b–" Maka started to say, but as he turned around, her words caught in her throat.

"Should we?" he said, eyes back to burning, fixed on her. She shivered.

"Well, we need to head back to get… to bed…" She was unconvincing, and he was not convinced, scooting closer with every breathy word she said.

"We can…" he said, staring, _staring_ at the glistening parts of her. "Unless there's something you want, first. Just say the word, Maka."

And much like when Soul had said it, the " _please_ " that she uttered, as he moved his face to where his eyes had been, was like a plea to the heavens.


	9. My Dream is All Right

They laid there for awhile afterwards, Soul's arm curled around her as they watched the stars. The sky looked a little brighter than it had before, as more stars came out to dance with the moon. Eventually, they helped each other up with very reluctant sighs and started to amble back towards the trees.

When they finally edged back into the forest, however, moonlight was seeping through the trees, catching branches and making shadows that were suddenly too dark, too shrouded. That sinister feeling – the same one she'd felt the night of the Accidental Face-Punch – spread through her veins, setting her on edge.

"Stay close to me," she said, looking back at him. Soul looked at her curiously, but said nothing.

They wound through the trail back to the cabins, ears prickling with the sounds of the forest around them. It wasn't until they drew close to cabin 13 that they caught sight of an unexpected guest on the steps of the cabin.

"...Crona?" she said. With a yelp, Crona turned, and as they did, something fell out of their hands and onto the dirt with a metallic clatter.

"What's…" Maka started to ask, but her voice trailed off as Crona, eyes pale and haunting in the moonlight, picked it up and offered it to her, shaking from head to toe.

"S-she… she told me that if I did it, she'd leave you alone," they said. "She was trying..."

Maka walked over and held out her hand, trying to come to terms with what exactly she was seeing: her phone, her _stolen_ phone in Crona's hands, ready to be planted. Soul was hanging back, watching their exchange with narrowed eyes.

"I-I, I didn't mean–" they started to say before Maka shook her head gently at them, knowing that despite what this looked like, she couldn't believe that Crona would have done this, not after the growth she'd seen in them.

"It's…" She took a deep breath, letting her uncertainties fly away. "It's okay," she said after a moment, and she could feel rather than see Soul make a shocked face at her in the darkness. "But what's going on? Why do you have this?"

"M-Medusa, she's been…"

"... She's been making _you_ do this, hasn't she?" Maka said, realization coming over her. "Planting phones in people's things?" Crona looked astonished that she knew this.

"Doesn't do anything for herself, does she?" Soul muttered. "What a joke."

"I-I'm sick of doing what she says," Crona stammered, eyebrows drawing together as they steeled themselves and stood up a little straighter. "I was _bringing_ you this."

"Crona," Maka said, walking up and taking back the phone. "Do you know what she's planning?"

Crona looked at her, still shaking, still wary, but finally they looked between her and Soul, balling their fists.

"No," Crona said. "But I know when Arachnokia is coming."

* * *

The next afternoon, everyone – except Crona, who had appearances to keep up – met on the docks.

"Okay, guys," Maka said. "We've had a really lucky break. Arachnokia's coming on the night of the third task."

"Are you kidding?!" Black*Star said, jumping to his feet and making them all grab their bags as the dock sloshed sideways against the water. "That's perfect! That means I get to be the star again!"

Maka rolled her eyes, but she was past the point of trying to quell Black*Star's habit of wreaking havoc. Any chaos he could possibly unleash would only help.

Suddenly, planning the third task became twice as daunting. The evenings she and Soul spent in the Captain's Room were long and taxing, both of them poring over their own team's strategies as well as trying to prepare for when Arachnokia showed up. Occasionally all of this planning was punctuated by a few... _interruptions_ in the form of backs meeting bookshelves and lips taking notes.

Summer's final days trickled through her fingers, and the nights grew cooler as the fireflies retreated back into the darkness of the forest. Cabin evenings stretched later and later as the girls huddled on the beds, laughing as they told jokes and braided hair with a familiarity that only camp could bring. It was a battle against time, and they fought against it by showing each other more love than ever. Cookies at the dinner table became an integral part of their routine.

But then, in a flash, she found herself standing in the woods in the middle of the night, three days before summer's end, eyes fixed on the long line of counselors before her.

"Welcome to the third task," she said. "I'm gonna go over the rules one more time, okay?" Her team nodded back at her.

"The name of the game is Witch Hunter," she said, gesturing to a flag jutting off of her hip. "It's basically Capture the Flag… with a twist. The goal is to capture the other team's witch. Everyone else just has to run around and try not to get caught. If your flag gets pulled, you take a nice stroll over to the other team's jail along with your captor. If you make it into the other team's jail without getting your flag pulled, everyone's free. Whoever captures the other team's witch first wins."

"That's why," she said, gesturing to Kilik with a smile. "I need a group of you around our witch. And-" She pointed at Kid. "I need a group around our decoy. The rest of us will try to take out the rest of the bad guys."

"Also," she added with a grimace. "The goal is to not wake the kids. ... Until the end, when the director sets off a bunch of fireworks, and they wake up anyway."

She had almost begun to appreciate the way her team stared at her in disbelief.

"...I know," was all she could say, and as she did, a bright red flare shot up into the sky above the forest. As her eyes darted down from the sky, she grinned.

"Let's hunt some witches," she said, turning toward the forest. Her team's feet had left the ground before she could finish saying the words.

* * *

It was mayhem from the moment they set off. Limbs and dirt and flags went flying as each team began the dance of trying to out-grab the other.

As she soon figured out, it was almost impossible to see the other team's faces in the darkness, let alone their flags, and she almost grabbed some off of her own team more than once as she chased her opponents. She finally managed to snag a flag off of Jackie, and the two of them marched back to the Meister jail. It was mostly uninhabited for the time being, but she was sure it wouldn't be long before it was filled to the brim with potential witches. Once she had deposited her captive accordingly, she rushed back into the forest. All was quiet as she tiptoed through the trees, narrowing her eyes as she searched for any figures that she didn't recognize.

She'd let her guard down a bit too much, perhaps, because when she walked by one of the trees, she jumped to the side, narrowly missing the wandering fingers of a very familiar Weapon as he flew by her. They stopped, staring at each other for a moment as she started to smile.

"What are you wearing?" she asked, gesturing to the white headband that he'd placed around his head. A giant SOUL sticker in the same design as his water bottle stood out in the darkness.

"Hey, it's cool," he said, bristling. "It was to... build team spirit or whatever."

"Seems like it's building a _bird's nest_ on your head," she said, laughing.

He lunged at her again, but she was faster. As he ran past her again, her fingers closed around the red flag at his hip.

"Ready for a stroll?" she said, waving it in front of his face. He glared at her between the gaps in the cloth.

As they walked, the game continued to unfold around them. She had to jump out of the way a few times to make way for teammates that barrelled past them, seeking flags of their own.

The jail was within sight as they rounded a large pile of dirt, and it was far more inhabited than last time. Inside the circle, which was currently being patrolled - unsurprisingly - by Ox, she could see at least 15 people in the circle.

Her calculations came to a grinding halt, however, as two hands shot up out of the dirt and wrapped around her and Soul's ankles, sending them both sprawling, and suddenly all she could see was theground.

"Heh, sorry about that, kids!" Sid's head poked his head out of the dirt pile after his hands.

"What are you _doing_ here, Sid?" Maka asked as she got up, dusting herself off.

"The director told us to join in the fun!" he said. "Just to spice things up a little."

His hands retreated back into the dirt, leaving only his grinning face exposed. Maka put her face in her hands. Between this task's already ridiculous nature and unknown Arachnokia visits, this task did not need any more _spicing up_.

"Makaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" came a voice to her right, its possessiveness echoing to the treetops. It got progressively louder, crooning a chorus of "Did Sid hurt you?! I'll get him, I'll save youuuuuuu~"

She ducked as her father tripped over Soul's still-grounded body and soared above her head. She turned to see Spirit slam into the dirt pile behind her and slide down it soundlessly, face planted in the mulch.

"Oh, and just to warn you," Sid added as Maka turned away from them to help Soul up. "You might wanna watch out for Stein."

Just as he said it, a figure burst through the trees and a familiar maniacal laugh met her ears as Stein chased down a frantic Liz and Patty. A line of light came out of his hands in bursts.

" _Is that a blowtorch?!_ " she heard someone yell, and she stared after Stein's retreating figure in disbelief, watching people throw themselves out of his way.

In front of her, Soul's head flopped back onto the dirt.

* * *

When she finally dragged Soul to his feet and over to the jail, she set off towards the Weapon side, searching out where their witch might be, hand extended defensively to keep anyone from snagging her flag. But all was quiet as she made her way through the trees, down past the dining hall and toward the stables. Everyone was closer to the camper's cabins and the open field, but she imagined that if she were a witch, she'd be hiding away from the action, skulking around in the shadows.

She was right, but not in the way she'd expected.

As she came around the corner of the stables, she jumped and plastered herself to the side of the stables as five figures glided past her: three men in suits, a woman in all black that she didn't recognize, and another that she absolutely _did_ recognize, snake tattoos on display as she brought up the back of the line. Maka slinked around to the other side of the stables, watching them as they walked.

"I'm sorry I can't show you more of the property," Medusa was saying, too much honey in her voice. "But as you can see, we've got ample space, especially if you're willing to take the trees down." She sounded far too enthused about this possibility, and it made Maka seethe.

"And you're sure that you can make this happen?" the woman in black asked, voice thick with condescension.

"Of course I am," Medusa said, but the honey in her voice had started to sound charred, poison seeping into it.

They'd started to move out of earshot, but Maka edged forward, lurking behind the trees. She couldn't lose them, but she needed to get the message back to everyone else.

Just as she was about to take another step, a tentative finger tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped. Crona stared back at her, and then stared ahead at the group, and seemed to stand a little straighter.

"I'll handle it," Crona whispered, still watching the group's retreat. "You find the others."

By the time she threw herself back into the fray, there had evidently been a jailbreak. She ran into Soul instantly, who tried once again to get grab-happy with her flag until she grabbed his wrists, pulling him to her.

"They're here, c'mon," she whispered, cheek against his ear, and she got the very real satisfaction of hearing him stammer out something unintelligible as she pulled away.

She still had a hand attached to one of his wrists when Liz came along, looking as smug as she always did when the two of them were together, but she switched into business mode as soon as Maka gave her the update and rushed off to grab the others.

All of them made their way towards Maka, with the very obvious exception of Black*Star, who nobody had seen for several minutes after he'd gone running into the woods on the other side of the field. She didn't waste time wondering about this, figuring he'd show up at either the worst or best possible time, as was usually the case with Black*Star.

They tore towards where she had left Crona behind, but before they could get all the way there, she saw the group approaching. Crona was leading them straight towards them.

This wasn't part of the plan, she thought, but they edged forward anyway, forming a line in response to seeing their oncoming enemies.

When Medusa spotted them, however, she stopped cold, shooting a look at Crona that was so full of rage that Maka almost stopped, so strong was the sense of calamity she could feel emanating from this woman.

"Crona, what's this?" Maka heard Medusa say. Her voice had iced over, the threat in her words grating against Maka's nerves.

There they were, a line of impatient, entitled businessmen against a bunch of scrappy twenty-somethings. Suits against sweats.

And Crona, poor Crona was in between the lines, caught between two worlds. As Crona glanced at Maka, they gave her one last look, almost a smile, before turning around towards Medusa.

"These are my friends," Crona said, voice quiet but clear. "And this is my home. I don't want you to take this place away from them."

Maka couldn't see Crona's face, but she could absolutely see Medusa's. Her face was contorting in ugly ways as she tried to keep her fury under wraps before her very important audience.

"Crona," she said, tapping her face pseudo-thoughtfully with a long-fingered nail. "I think you're misunderstanding the situation here."

"I understand," Crona said, carefully caged fear now spilling into their words. Maka silently cheered them on as the group stared at their adversaries. "I… I understand–"

"Do you?" Medusa hissed. "Because let me spell it out for all of you. _You don't have a choice_. Our friends here are putting in an offer that will beat whatever your precious director is renting it for. It'll be theirs by September."

"It won't," Maka heard herself say. She took a step around Crona and stared Medusa down, eyes burning. "We won't let you. We'll _fight_. We'll never stop fighting, and we'll make Arachnokia's life a living hell if they try to take this place from us. Don't underestimate how much we love this place."

Medusa surveyed her with a joyless condescension. "Oh, don't worry, dear," she said, eyes glinting. "I rarely underestimate anything."

She started to turn away, motioning to Crona. "Come, Crona," she said. "It was a bad idea to bring you here. You'll be writing your poems elsewhere next summer."

"No!" Crona said, and by this point, the rest of the group had come up from behind to stand around them. "Don't _you_ understand?"

As Medusa was about to answer, several things happened at once.

One: a cacophony of purple and gold fireworks began to explode behind them, sprinkling the sky with color. Two: a sound like a howling wolf erupted from the forest. Three: another sound, like a cheering crowd at a football game, started to build from the other side of camp.

The group stared each other as they tried to make sense of too many stimuli.

"...We both won?" Soul asked.

" _We have wolves at camp?!_ " Liz exclaimed.

The Arachnokia crew was also distracted, looking around in confusion. Crona and Medusa were still staring at each other, but as the sounds grew louder, Maka turned to face the part of the woods where the sound was coming from. She stared at the forest, wondering if maybe they should run inside one of the cabins or something, when the howl came again, closer this time.

"Perhaps it's best if we take our leave," the woman in black said, sounding more annoyed than nervous, which could not be said about the men around her, whose eyes were now actively scanning the forest behind them as the sounds continued to build.

" _Stay,_ " Medusa said. The men looked about as scared of her as they did of the mysterious noises, so they stayed put – just long enough to see the river crash through the trees.

In a massive crowd, in a way that was rowdy and screechy and perfectly _camp_ , she could see them. Every single child at Camp Crescent Moon. All covered in what looked like glow-in-the-dark body paint.

"What the–" Soul started to say before he was cut off. Above them, twenty feet up in the trees, came another massive howl, a war cry that soon transformed into coherent words:

"Go, my minions!" crowed the figure in the trees, a glow-in-the-dark finger stretching toward the now-very-nervous collection of Arachnokia's finest. "There they are! Do as your god commands you!"

He started laughing uncontrollably, glowing green legs teetering dangerously against the branches of the tree. The wave of children was very close now, and the businessmen were looking distressed.

"You're welcome, by the way," Black*Star yelled down at Maka and Soul. "Were all of you just standing around that whole time?! You think you can defeat evil by just _standing there?_ "

Maka decided she preferred the howling.

She would have yelled something back at him if a sudden onset of glowsticks, pajamas and errant limbs had not knocked her sideways. It was all she could do to even stay standing, and she and Soul held onto each other's forearms to stay grounded as the flood pushed past them. She caught glimpses of her campers, of Soul's campers, of every single kid that had come to the lake that summer, moving forward in a chaotic mass, chasing a common goal.

"Yeah!" Black*Star screeched at his proteges. "Don't let 'em get away! You guys are the biggest stars _ever!_ "

From her (very poor) vantage point in the middle of the fray, Maka could no longer see the three men, so they were very likely hightailing it off the premises as fast as their legs could carry them. She watched as Medusa and the other woman managed to wade through the mire of children and make it to the fence. Straining her eyes to see, Maka watched as the two of them exchanged heated words, until the other woman turned her back and stalked away, the sea seamlessly parting for her to move through.

When the children had passed them, led by their commander in chief (who had now found another tree for shouting his directions), they stared at Medusa. She glided back toward them in silence, still beckoning to Crona to follow.

"I'm not going," Crona said. "They're gone, they don't want–"

"This is a minor setback," Medusa said, oily sweetness returning to her voice. "You don't think that little stunt changed anything, do you?" False laughter was flattering on no one, especially not Medusa, and Maka stiffened as Medusa walked up and stared down at her, malice shining through her eyes.

"I'm going to tear this place to the ground," she said, holding her gaze. "And your precious camp doctor is going to help me do it."

In the darkness behind her, a burst of flame appeared.

"Is that so, Medusa?" A flash of two lenses joined the flame in the darkness.

Medusa's eyes narrowed, and she turned away from Maka to face a very grim Doctor Stein, blowtorch alight and extended sideways in his hand as he approached her.

"Stein, I thought we'd discussed this," Medusa said, backtracking, trying to let the oil in her voice smooth out its cracks. "You can do so much better, you–"

Stein stopped just short of Medusa, and his face split into a not-quite-natural grin, glasses flashing again.

"I can't deny it," he said, tilting his head. "Your proposal is intriguing."

She tried to say something else, but he took another step towards her.

"But," he continued, his voice carrying over the propane hissing beside him. "First and foremost, I'm a doctor. What would I do with a cell complex?" He took another step, and they were chest to chest now, staring each other down.

"Besides," he added, looking around Medusa at the rest of them. "I still have so many research subjects at my disposal." Maka shuddered internally.

"Stein, you can't be serious," Medusa tried again, and his head snapped back up. The blowtorch shuttered off, and he hoisted it over his shoulder as his eyes bore into hers.

"I'm serious about this," he said. "I've got a message from the director. Your tenure at Camp Crescent Moon has officially expired. Your bags are at the gate. Crona can stay. Goodbye, Medusa."

He walked backwards into the forest again, darkness swallowing him back up. Medusa, without looking at any of them, stalked off toward the front gate. Maka had a feeling that she might not be gone forever, but at least she'd slithered away for the time being.

And so, in the wee hours of the morning, she found herself standing next to Soul, holding up a shiny crescent trophy, torches and fireworks exploding behind them as their teammates looked on. Running Arachnokia off the premises had evidently taken precedence over winning, so they had hence become the proud recipients of camp's first ever tie.

As they hoisted it into the air again, she found herself feeling very glad that they'd had the chance to go at it all summer.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, all of the kids were sporting black tattoos on their biceps, courtesy of their fearless leader. His newfound riot-inciting skills had given him (somehow) even more confidence than usual, and he marched around with his chest puffed out, retelling the night's events to anyone who would listen.

The only bright side to this was that after last night, cabins 12 and 13 had evidently finally settled their differences, and they were all centered around Black*Star, laughing with him as he recounted their antics.

She supposed vanquishing evil had a way of bringing unlikely friends together.

Unfortunately, this also meant that he kept bringing up how the rest of the counselors had evidently _just stood there_. Soul and Maka had sought necessary refuge at the buffet.

As they hid, Sid walked over to the coffee table where they stood, pouring himself a cup and taking a hearty gulp.

"Ugh," he said with a grimace, staring into his cup.

"No good?" Soul asked, taking a drink.

"Man," Sid said. "It's like making love in a canoe."

Maka froze. She hadn't thought about their lake escapades in a couple of days, and even though that wasn't _exactly_ what they'd done, it felt close enough to the truth that she felt caught in the implications. Soul must've felt similarly, as he inhaled a massive gulp of coffee and doubled over wheezing.

"You okay?" Sid asked casually, taking another sip of his coffee.

"M– fine–" Soul choked out. "Wrong– pipe–" Maka leaned over and thwacked him on the back a few times, trying to knock the mortification out of him.

"So… the coffee's good, then?" Maka asked weakly, and how _exactly_ Soul managed to choke on coffee and throw suggestive glances at her at the same time, she'd never know.

"Nah," Sid said after a moment, walking to the sink and dumping his coffee out with disgust. "It's fucking close to water."

And he walked away, leaving both of them staring after him. When Soul looked up and smirked at her, she smacked him on the back once more for good measure.

* * *

The end of camp had a way of taking memories and packing them away too fast, as if leaving this place were somehow a simple affair, something easily gathered into neat little bags. Love notes and farewell friendship bracelets found themselves stuffed in duffels alongside jeans and socks. Throughout the night, the boy bands and skulls of cabin 13 faded away, and they sat with walls plain and beds barren as they awaited the call on that final misty morning of camp.

Once the loudspeaker rang out, they'd be on their way home, boarding buses in the fog, letting life carry them onward into their non-summer lives, and they'd begin the countdown until they'd be back beneath the pine trees once more.

"You'll be back next summer, right?" Tsugumi had asked Maka, eyes round with tears, the other girls tugging on her shirt as they awaited her response.

"We'll see," was always the answer, hopeful but realistic, because how could she know what the next year held in store? But if she had it her way: yes, of _course_ she'd be back, living in harmony with the crickets and fireflies, lazing on the dock, embracing camp's madness and finding the beauty in it. For now, though, she'd take hugs and tear-stained goodbye letters and let the bittersweetness of the day lie heavy on her heart.

In the midst of their early morning goodbyes, a voice rang out, and it sounded like it was… sniffling?

" _Fools!_ " came its final screech, speakers pulsing as they bore the burden of the voice one last time. "They didn't tell me you were leaving! They never tell me!" The voice cracked a little, and then seemed to collect itself, its normal tenor ringing out through the speakers again: "Good thing I caught you before you left, now I have a chance to tell my story one more time–"

A familiar sigh escaped the campers, and Maka and Tsubaki smiled at them as they ushered them out, one by one, through the mist and up to the gates.

"We'll miss you all! Thank you all so much for coming!" The director bounced up and down as he waved at the campers. If he'd been affected whatsoever by the discovery that one of the nurses had been planning an elaborate sabotage of his summer camp, he hid it well. Stein, Spirit and Sid stood at the gates as well, helping with baggage, giving kids high fives or unsolicited dissection tips, depending on the source.

As they climbed onto the bus, the loudspeaker gave the campers one last farewell:

"Safe travels, children! And don't forget…" The voice paused. "...Camp will always be waiting for you."

After the kids left, the counselors stayed through the morning, which gave them a chance to clean up their activity spaces and say their final goodbyes.

"Maka!" a voice called out behind her as she had started to head down to the lake. She turned to see Crona scrambling after her, x-marks-the-eyeballs backpack slung over a shoulder.

"Hey, Crona," she said. "You doin' okay?"

"Yeah, actually," Crona sighed. "I'm okay."

"What are you gonna do?" she asked. She realized that summer's end would mean a newer start for Crona than for any of them.

"I'm headed to the city, I think," Crona said. "Gonna do some more writing there. I've even got a roommate sorted out. Their name is uh... Rag-something? I can never remember it."

"That sounds great," she said, wrapping her friend in a hug. "Keep in touch, okay?"

"Sure," they said, and they faded off into the trees, leaving her alone with the forest again as she tread the familiar path to the lake.

She wasn't surprised to see a familiar form stretched out on the dock, sunglasses in place, an easy grin spreading across his face as she marched along the wooden planks and nudged him with her foot.

"Have you done _any_ cleaning?" she said, exasperated, plopping down on the dock next to him.

"Nope," he said cheerfully, rolling over onto his stomach. She still had to coach herself not to be distracted by back muscles. "Figured if I'd done anything, you'd just boss me around and tell me to do it all again."

"... That's fair," she said, but her eyes still hadn't left his back, and as she sat there, the finality of one last afternoon with him weighing on her shoulders, she was struck by a sudden idea.

She clambered to her feet, and he watched her, sunglasses following her ascent a little too carefully.

"Are we cleaning?" he asked, and she extended her hand to help him up, not answering.

As he stood up as well, she smiled at him innocently – and then tackled him into the water, accompanied by his sunglasses, shark shorts and general disdain.

"What the hell was that for?!" he demanded wetly as he broke the surface, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he stilled. Her eyes were fixed on him, asking him for one last melody as the lake danced in her eyes in the afternoon sun. He smiled as she pulled him through the water and under the dock.

They'd have to say goodbye eventually, she thought as she pressed him into the side of the dock, their hands entwining against the wood beside his head. But after the summer they'd had, a summer of changes and chaos and canoes, she was willing to let the tides carry them wherever they were headed next.

When Black*Star's telltale shriek echoed through the woods, telling them to _get their lazy asses up to the dining hall_ for lunch, they grinned at each other, and their hands drifted together as they waded through the water, past the grass, and up the hill. Lakewater winked at them in the sun's rays as waves bumped against the dock, the wooden planks rippling with their own farewell.

Theirs had been a song of the moon; it was ever-changing, always surprising her with something new, seductive, bathed in shadow. But as she watched daylight bounce off their hands, she thought of warm piano sessions, and searing lips against the bookshelves in the late afternoon.

Perhaps the sun had spun them a pretty tune as well.

  
[ ](http://aquabella888.tumblr.com/post/156392053514/spun-by-the-moon-resbang-2016)   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Thank you so much for reading! :)
> 
> Also: Mad love to the anon who left that canoe joke in makapedia's askbox on tumblr. You fully inspired that canoe joke scene with Sid, and you are actually my hero.
> 
> This was such a wonderful event and I had the best time working on this. And now, it's back to slaving over Hybrid Theory updates ;D See you all soon~


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